Drowning
by Kyer
Summary: Starts with implied Batflash. J'onn/Wally friendship follows. J'onn saves Wally's life resulting in a closer tie between the two as Flash recovers. 7. Disclaimer: I don't own anything mentioned in here. Complete until I feel like writing more.
1. Drowning

**October 1 Update:**

**Ending of chapter 7 is not truly complete. It's readable, but a bit open ended due to reader review button paralysis. In other words...my Give A Damn got busted.  
**

* * *

**IF YOU SEE THIS STORY ANYWHERE SAVE AT AND BY 'KYER'...IT HAS BEEN PLAGIARIZED. ALL MY JUSTICE LEAGUE STORIES ARE ONLY POSTED HERE AT **

**A/N: **I saw a drawing on the net (Deviant Art) and was inspired by the artist's asking to write something based on it. Named after the the drawing

Characters: Wally West, Bruce Wayne, J'onn J'onzz. Universe: mixed with a reference to cartoon episode's Better World. This includes intact secret identities with two exceptions: I think that J'onn as well as Bruce knew who Flash was before Starcrossed. Also, I can't stand the name Hawkgirl. She wasn't a *girl* for Pete's sake. Anyone who thought she was a *girl* needed their eyes checked. 9.9

Edit note: MIXED universe. I always liked Wally's mask without the eye lenses as that seemed to better fit his open personality-and let us see his beautiful green orbs. He had switched to open eyes (like Barry's Flash cowl) for a long time once he learned how to make his own suit out of pure Speed Force energy. So here he has an 'open' mask unlike Batman who always has had white lenses over his eyes. Yes, I know Rebirth has redesigned Wally's uniform yet again and returned the 'hidden' look. I'm trying to get over that particular reversal. Give me time.

PG/PG-13 rated slash content.

Kyer does not own any of the characters depicted or mentioned within. Not even Wally. Just as well as he'd run rings around me.

**Not Deleting: **Every now and then I post something to which the responses are so absent I figure I might as well pull the plug. You can thank paineverlasting and wentworth360 for this story still existing somewhere other than in the dusty corridors of my external hard drive. Particularly the former who threatened to nag me. 0.0

So...

**THIS STORY IS DEDICATED TO FFN MEMBER PAINEVERLASTING WHO WAS WILLING TO FIGHT FOR IT DESPITE MY DESPONDENT RESPONSES THAT IT WASN'T WORTH KEEPING ON LIFE SUPPORT.**

ANYWAY...IT LIVES.

* * *

.

_(Song that helped inspired this deleted just in case prohibited by FFN:)_

_ -Ever The Same song excerpt by Rob Thomas_

_._

_.  
_

Drowning

.

There was a green glow trying to make its way through his eyelids. It wasn't a particularly threatening light, but it was tinting the thin layer of skin covering his eyes just enough to know it was there. Sunlight tended to be yellow and hospital rooms were always bright white with either a tinge of yellow or blue depending on the type of light bulb utilized, so...

Wally felt weird. Not right. Why was that? Batz would know. Batz always knew the _why_ when things were askew.

_Throbbing. Rending. Pain. Pain. PAIN._

He whimpered._  
_

_"Think of something else."_

_J'onn? Batz? I hurt! God, somebody, please help me!  
_

The voice had been so faint, Wally wasn't sure whose it had been other than it was masculine. He could only pray his response had been heard.

Silence answered him.

_I'm hallucinating voices. Oh God. Hurts._

The last was plaintive because the thought was for himself alone and maybe God. There was no one else. He was alone and in pain like he'd never felt pain before.

Screaming.

_"A recollection of what is past. Think of something else."_

There was the voice again.

_It sounds smart. I bet it's Batman. Batz? It hurts! Help me!  
_

_"Think of something else."_

Don't think of the pain and the pain would go away? He hoped that was Batman's plan and not his own thought. Batz was so very smart. No matter the question, Batman would find the answer and tell it to him. Wally'd take the info and run and run and _run_-

Running kept him safe, body and mind. Allowed him space to think at his own pace. Right now it was so hard to think, though. The memory of...

_Pain. All encompassing, blot out the light-pain. There was light that was not light in darkness that was not darkness._

_Batman knew the darkness; wasn't afraid of it._

_Batman. Knew.  
_

_"Think of...Batman."_

_Okay._

* * *

Batman.

The Dark Knight. The Caped Crusader. The Bat. The Gotham Knight. Batman knew so many things and the why of them.

Except when it came to a speedster's practical knowledge on the Speed Force and how to socialize at a party. In those areas, Wally could literally run space-time rings around reserved and speed-deprived Batman. Not that Batman was an invalid or someone whom Wally should pity. The man had his bazillion dollar Batwing and Batmobile and could probably outrun most normal humans in a marathon.

Yet Batman for all his intelligence and money didn't have a connection to the Speed Force. It was something that Wally had always felt kind of bad about... because he'd been blessed by God with a quad-tripled menu order of velocity pastry while Batz and other normal humans had somehow missed out on even one crumb of the best pieces of the DNA pie.

On the other hand, Wally couldn't help but grin at the idea that fate had recompensed Batman with superior brain cells because even the universe had been afraid to leave Batman empty handed lest the Dark Knight take some sort of umbrage against said universe...and very likely whoop it's ass.

Be that as it may, in the final count-as far as Wally was concerned-it still didn't seem a fair trade. Feeling that exhilarating force of speed electricity that connected with all of time and the multi-verse rush through your every atom? _That_ was like visiting Heaven's Disney World with an all-eternity ride pass. Who would trade mere intelligence for the ability to taste rapturous oneness with nigh everything?

Obviously, The Bat was really good at being smart and Wally respected that just as he was awed by the sheer power of Superman and Green Lanterns and the magical incantations of the magicians. Nor was he so self-centered that he could not at least imagine that Zatanna and Kyle might be experiencing paradise every time she used her magic or he called on the lantern's energy. You'd be stupid to assume that Superman was not feeling a kinship with Creation when he levitated on the edge of the upper atmosphere and basked in Sol's rays. Watching J'onn observe desolate Mars from the Watchtower tore at Wally's heartstrings, yet J'onn seemed at times to have a connection to the cosmos which was better than that of anyone else. The universe was above all...diverse with its gifts. Wally figured that Creation knew what it was doing and did it pretty well considering all it had to work with were rocks and gases.

For all that, being a speedster was-still-_The Best Thing Ever_ as far as Wally was concerned even if the others laughed at this conceit because...because they just _didn't know_.

While most people complained a day rarely held enough hours to do this and or get together for that? Speedsters had a surplus of _seconds_ and those were like _days _with which to do stuff. Hell, he could watch a hummingbird in flight and sense each and every tiny vibration of its molecules as it ever so slowly maintained its hover over a flower. The intensity of its vibrations shifted with it's movement so that he knew just when it was going to fly off by the tiny adjustments it made beforehand. Or he could probably start near simultaneous conversations with every superhero and otherwise cool person on Earth and still have time to admire the scenery and grab snacks while he zipped about waiting for their replies. What other enhanced human had the chance to meet everyone worth knowing in their lifetime and how _sheer awesome_ was that?

Like The Batman.

Batman was cool and decidedly awesome and Wally was very glad he knew the man even if only professionally.

Okay, so he often felt like an ignoramus when Batz started talking all techie or fit together vague clues into a logical picture like they were a child's 50-piece jigsaw puzzle. Still, that was much better than feeling like a dunce while listening to another logic-challenged person yammer on when what he _needed_ for a potentially life-shattering question was an answer to stuff like-

_Where am I?_

* * *

"Batz?" Wally fuzzily noted that the green lights were still on. Somebody was going to get a lecture on energy costs.

"Ssh...it's okay."

"Am I alive? He was aware that something was off-that he felt more out of it than he usually did; yet that knowledge didn't stop his mouth in time before he'd asked if he was still amongst the living; because-_really_-that just sounded like a stupid question even if he did feel half dead.

_Batman said it was okay, so it must be._

And yet... his cotton-dry mouth frowned in realization that _the something which was off feeling_ was not going away. Maybe the tingle in his brain was not technically _wrong_-but definitely was not quite right either. He raised his hand and heard dripping noises that sounded like someone had added wind chimes to the audio mix.

Yep, that was definitely odd however much it was stamped [Bat-Certified 'Okay'] and warranted further investigation even if that action made Batman go all sulky because Wally wasn't obeying his commands quickly and thoroughly enough.

_Sulky Batman_ was scarier than regular _Aloof Batman_, but not as much as _P.O.'d Batman_ which was a scary that was off the regular scale and probably needed a special Bat Scale to be measured accurately.

Wally tilted his head sideways in a prelude to opening his eyes and looking at his hand, but felt something lapping into a nostril. It didn't sting or burn or otherwise hurt in any way, really. Still, the sudden sensation of liquid entering his nose brought on a reflexive snort.

Softness was instantly under his head, supporting it and tilting it upwards again-nose now clear of what should really have been offending stuff, yet wasn't.

"I'm wet," Wally mused aloud in a way that suggested he thought the matter should warrant _some_ interest-if only a little. He hadn't realized he was half drenched before and figured it was because the water must be sharing the same temperature as his skin so his body had canceled out the sensation while he'd been asleep. Like being in a sensory-deprivation tank for a long enough period of time, his nerve endings were ignoring the liquid.

God, that sounded so logical.

How long had he been asleep? For that matter, where was he and where had he been before he got here?

His eyelids felt like lead weights and resisted his desire to see where he was. Wally forced them open anyway. It proved to have not been worth the effort. His vision was all myopic-a Mr. Magoo level of blurry, too. He could just make out glowing green areas against velvety blackness. Nothing terribly informative.

What if he started to push himself upright, to get out of the...water?

Was it water? Even with a head stuffed with wool the liquid moved differently..._alien_ different like it was alive in and of itself and that usually would have started alarm bells in his head. Wally knew intellectually that it _should_ be a worrisome thing to wake up in such a circumstance-even though he didn't actually feel alarmed-and so he tried to get up because...

Because?

_The pain had receded._

A strong hand pushed him back down into the liquid.

_"Don't."_ One word; softly spoken, yet clearly a command not to be trifled with.

_Batman?_ That had sounded a little more like Batz. But where had he come from? Had they been on a mission? Was one of them hurt?

_He_ was hurt.

_Running, hitting, bursts of fire and loud noises. Living metal. Tendrils around his body. Clicking. Pain._

_"Stay. Safe here. Do not move."_

"What?" Batz wanted him here? "Why?" He didn't particularly wish to be wet.

Or did he? It was not bad. The liquid was warm... soothing ...comfortable. It made him want to relax-which was ridiculous because the pain was almost gone and surely he was needed somewhere? If he'd been hurt then it stood to reason that others had been as well. He _had_ to help them.

Batman's hand was on his chest just strong enough to keep him from getting up; not smiling or frowning or criticizing. Just _there_. Insistent. Patient. Waiting for Wally to realize something vital that Batman already had.

_I'm missing something important._

His body felt at ease in the water. Was that right though? There was a niggling recollection at the back of his brain that he didn't normally lie down in water unless he was taking a bath. Come to that, he never _voluntarily_ took a bath. Too slow. Showers were faster. Showers were better than sliced bread because bread really didn't need to be sliced to be eaten in a hurry. Step in, step out-done in a flash. A tub took _forever_ to fill. Baths were what were foisted on him when he was too injured to protest the indignity of it or heal up in time to escape the hordes of Watchtower nurses eager to give him one.

Okay, there were no hordes of babe-acious Watchtower nurses on call wielding sponges and adoring smiles over skimpy white uniforms...just one or two old battle-axes in their 40's and sensible shoes who steered clear of him as much as possible to avoid his whining _because healing took forever_ (relatively speaking) and used up valuable running free-around-the-planet time.

So baths were bad and showers were good and the movie Chariots of Fire was good, but was also bad since it didn't have nearly enough running scenes in it and the ones it did have were much too slow because some idiot director had a penchant for slowing down the film during what should have been fast moments.

He liked fast things. Things that didn't seem so slow.

Except for right now.

Right now _he_ felt...slow. Kind of _disconnected_. And that was all right since he really didn't feel like going anywhere else anyway; being right here was _perfect_.

Wait...hadn't something felt wrong just a bit ago? If he concentrated, maybe he would remember what it was.

No, there was something _bad_ if he remembered so he shouldn't do that; but he was curious, too, and even if he felt slow his thoughts seemed to be racing along speedster normal paced-okay?-as if they were searching for something to do-like they were at a loss and bored and wanted-_needed_ a distraction because-because-something was _missing_ and that wasn't right and-_if he didn't have something to __do__ he was going to go insane like from that pain and-and he was being squeezed and it hurt-even his brain-it was all-__he needed to move__!_

Unintelligible sounds were in his ear. They made no sense to him. What use was gibberish?

_Nothing made sense!_ All of this-weirdness-he needed to escape-run away from the scary weirdness that might be something bad!

The gibberish was changing...words...they told him to calm down. He should calm down because panicking wasn't going to help.

Concentrate on...

_Batman__._

_They were on a mission. Lives were on the line. Batman needed him to stay calm and concentrate on him. That was important. More important than rushing off because...why?_

"Rushing off will draw attention to things that would hurt someone innocent."_  
_

_Batman needed him to concentrate only on Batman to save a life._ An innocent.

_I have to follow Batman's direction in order to save the life of an innocent._

_"Yes."_

_"Okay_."

* * *

A knee was nudging against the underside of his thighs. He let it slip between his legs so that the muscle-bound limb was trapped between his own. It didn't stop there though, but continued until the thigh was touching against his while the rest of the leg from knee to foot was pressing down to trap his own appendage. At the same time as his right leg was being thus pinioned, another limb had moved in to prop up his left leg so that it bent at the knee. A foot braced against his heel.

Wally allowed it.

Nor did he experience more than a moment's unease when he felt a hand press up from between his legs to slide over his cod piece. Batman was saving a life and he was helping _because above all things a hero helped others._ Besides...it felt good and Batman was being really nice-and how many times was Batman really nice to anyone?

Batman had to be acting nice to save a life and if Batman could be nice for something so important then surely Wally could not make a fuss about it. So when bare fingers tugged around the lightning bolt design of his pants and started pulling up the back of his top, he obliged the hand by reaching down with his left arm to pull at the front of the wet material. Between the two his torso was quickly exposed while his frame continued partially resting against another body. The hand did not seem satisfied by this, however, as it ghosted back down his abdomen in order to poke at his belt hemline once more.

Again, Wally saw no reason to complain even though this wasn't normal behavior for Batman or something that he'd ever recalled his mentor warning him could happen while on duty as The Flash. In fact, when the softness supporting the back of his skull started to grasp at the material covering most of his head _(ah-there was another hand, then!)_ he merely reached up and peeled back the cowl until no part of it was touching his face.

Secret identity? _We're saving a life, here. Though I've never saved someone by acting this way. Shouldn't there be running involved? Was he doing this right? If only Uncle Barry had talked about this sort of thing back then instead of just how to vibrate and run over water. It was important not to screw this up for Batman and that innocent victim._

_Concentrate on Batman.  
_

There-Batman just smiled at him! It seemed he was doing the right thing after all and this was much nicer than pursuing thoughts of wrongness or memories or...whatever it was that was so unimportant. Indeed, it must have been the correct thing for now soft lips were sliding along his chin and a tongue tip was at his mouth, tasting his lips.

Wally decided he liked this and not the least because of the fact that the more he stopped thinking and just focused on Batman, the more the memory of pain and confusion faded away and the rightness of it all grew stronger.

_Wally was being a hero._

_He was saving a life._

* * *

"How is he?"

It was John who asked, but all the Founders had the same question on their faces. The Martian sighed and hoped they would take the news well. He'd done-was doing-all he could to save the speedster's life.

"Flash will recover, but it will take time. The collecting machine from Brainiac caused extensive damage to his body even as it was preparing to import and convert his soul into its data banks. Fortunately, I was able to interrupt the transfer and redirect his personality elsewhere before..blowing out its circuitry."

_It had been most satisfying even if much of his mind had been too preoccupied in saving Flash to fully enjoy watching the scout implode._

The heroes looked sick at the thought that Brainiac's computerized drone had almost succeeded in literally stealing their friend's mind and turning what remained into pulp.

"Where?"

It was Superman who managed to get the query asked before anyone else; though really it _was_ a rhetorical question. There had been only J'onn around Flash when the detestable pile of flexible metal and computer chips had managed to snag and hold onto the Scarlet Speedster. The others had been too far away dealing with Brainiac proper when the drone started crushing their youngest Founder with its many whip-like appendages. The ghost of Flash's agony-drenched screams still echoed in his ears.

J'onzz stiffened in preparation for any criticism of his action. "As his body was then in such a perilous state with its viability not certain, I thought it best to deposit his soul within a portion of my own mind until it can be safely returned."

"Flash is aware of where he is, J'onn?" Diana now spoke up, worry in her eyes.

"No," J'onn hung his head. "I fear he would not handle such a revelation well. Therefore, I have created an illusion for him. It is regrettable that I had not time to construct something more tailored for his immediate comfort and there were some bad moments when he started to become aware, but he is at peace now."

"An illusion?" Green Lantern knew all about creating mental constructs. It was how he controlled the power of his emerald ring.

The oldest League member hesitated. "Yes...a personal retreat of mine meant for meditation purposes. A mental shrine to the Martian deity of waters and wholeness. Water is-was-a sacred element to Mars as it holds so little of the life-giving liquid. Water's essence is calming and healing to both body and soul." His eyes closed, then opened and glowed. "Admittedly, it is not _usual_ having such an...energetic spirit within a space meant for peaceful contemplation, but it was necessary. I will cope."

"J'onn..." A distressed Shayera looked at him. Her feathers refused to lie flat; their ruffled appearance testimony to her unease. Her speedster friend had never been one to settle down. How long before he fell to claustrophobia...closed in like that..._closed in_. He'd go mad. She shuddered in empathy, being subject to that particular phobia.

Stewart was entertaining close to the same misgivings-as were they all-for they had known the young man for quite some time now. Peaceful contemplation wasn't exactly The Flash's strong point. Harboring him had to be like an elder watching over a room full of hyper children-exhausting. If a weary J'onn lost his focus before Flash's body was healed enough to risk...potting it back in, what would happen to Flash's mind? Hell, what would happen to J'onn's?

"He was in great agony, Shayera. The drugs we have would have failed in alleviating it. That was the first concern as far as something driving Flash into madness. I am not belittling your issues on this. However, rest assured that as soon as his body has stabilized I will return his mind to it. His thoughts...are not something I asked to be privy to more than necessary, but I _am_ an experienced telepath and am not unfamiliar with shunting aside errant alien thoughts. He gave a smile meant to reassure his team mates. "We will _both_ be fine."

"All of us realize you did not have time to consider the ramifications of it, J'onn," Clark demurred, "but...well, Wally rather likes to _talk_ and you enjoy your quiet time. That's like trying to mix oil and water as Ma likes to say. To be frank, either you're going to be miserable with no peace of mind or Flash is going to go nuts from loneliness."

"Everyone, I do appreciate your concern, but while we are currently not holding a conversation I have not left him alone. That would not be healthy for one of his personality." J'onn was beginning to want to grind his teeth in frustration. Really, how many times did he have to reassure them?

"No?" the others voiced in near unison.

_Oh dear._ He'd made them curious now, wondering just what was happening up there in a Martian's head where one speedster was holed up in the guest room.

"Flash was distressed by recent memories of trauma and sought comfort from another. I let his mind decide whose presence would ease his distress the most and it did the choosing. Suffice it to say, he is no longer in pain."

The other Founders looked at each other than back at the Martian.

"Who?" Clark blurted out. _Obviously to a Kryptonian the word 'suffice' held no meaning_. "Just what's going on in-"

Orange eyes glowed. "Superman, please do not ask me to divulge that. In respect for Flash's privacy, I will not answer."

Shayera frowned in disapproval before growling, "That little...he's dreaming he's with me or Diana, isn't he?" She rolled her eyes. "What am I thinking? He's probably got us both by his side along with every super model he's ever seen. If any of us are indecent, I'll hit him!" Diana blinked at her statement, not quite comprehending what her friend was so angry about. Flash was in J'onn's mind. Dreaming was surely an innocent... She flushed, recalling how Flash had acted upon first meeting her.

"J'onn?"

"No more questions." J'onn closed his eyes as much to signal that he was ending this meeting as to temper his rising annoyance with them. What did they expect him to do? It wasn't like he could-or would-just drop Flash's mind off in a plastic container and stick it in the freezer for later. "I think it best you all leave for now. I must concentrate on keeping the illusion intact."

* * *

"So, Flash, what were you doing all those hours while in J'onn's mind?" Shayera asked him with false nonchalance. "We know you imagined one of us in there with you."

About to take a sip of his drink at their break room table, Wally froze with the cup's edge just brushing his mouth.

"Probably stuffing his face at an all-you-can-eat restaurant; right, Hot Shot?" John snorted, but he was eying Flash somewhat carefully as the young man ignored their questions in favor of contemplating his beverage. Stewart's posture was even more rigid than normal. Flash was their close friend, but the thought that the speedster might have been entertaining Shayera even _closer_ than one would a friend-however imaginary the scene-did not sit well with him.

Shayera tossed her head with a playful smirk, but her eyes likewise never strayed from the speedster's face. Flash had always had difficulty hiding what he was feeling and that made him easier to read than most-even when it was half hidden behind red spandex. Just his posture alone gave him away. "As long as you weren't doing anything inappropriate for a minor? Something like..." she paused to let the figurative mace drop just to see if anything got stirred up "...sex?"

Wally blushed crimson, choking slightly on a mouthful of iced mocha as his eyes went wide with panic. He sped from the room.

"That cinches it," Shayera growled, thumping her fist against a table top hard enough to crack it's surface. "He _was_-!"

With a blur Wally was back with Princess Diana in tow. Before anyone could react he had the Amazon's lasso off her belt and loosely encircling his neck. His green eyes were jade stones behind his mask; no hint of humor softened them.

"Since my head seems to be in the figurative noose with you all, I thought it might as well be made literal. Diana, ask me if I was doing some inappropriate mental shenanigans with anyone in this room-while either in or out of J'onn's noggin."

With some embarrassment, Wonder Woman asked.

"Nope, nada, zilch." Wally's grin was rather forced as he continued, "Even when dreaming _-I_- respect my friends privacy; besides, doing anything like _that_ with someone who's practically _my sister_-_" he turned his frosty glare from Shayera to spear it upon John "or brother_-actually threatens to turn off my appetite. Can you believe that? Of _course_ you can-I'm wearing Wonder Woman's _magic lie detector_." He lifted the golden rope back off his head. "And that should settle _that_. So give it a rest, guys." With a huff, he sat back down and finished his meal, pointedly ignoring them for the rest of his break.

* * *

"Flash?"

Wally shivered at the cold way his name was spoken. He didn't bother turning around. What for? Either the speaker would be cloaked in shadows or his visage would not be pleasant. "Make it quick, Batz. I'm due for monitor duty in thirty seconds."

"I heard your statement to the others in the cafeteria."

_Of course he had._ _What a surprise._

Wally grimaced at Batman's admission. Naturally, now would come the lecture on propriety and harassment in the workplace-never mind that he had not been the one to bring up the topic of conversation with John and Shayera. Best to let Batman get the point that he was irked over aired out quickly. He really _did_ have monitor duty in a short while and for all he didn't like doing it, he'd signed up onto this showboat for better or worse.

"And?"

"Keep your puerile fantasies about me to yourself."

Yesterday, Wally would have been shocked to hear such a sentence coming from Batz and directed at him, but after that little incident in the cafeteria? Wally momentarily closed his eyes as he grit his teeth, willing himself not to explode. It was _not_ easy. His back was already up. "And what-besides your rampant ego-makes you think I hold puerile or _any_ sort of fantasies about you?"

"Since awakening in your own body you have not looked me in the eye. That would not mean anything for some, but in _you_ it's a sign of a guilty conscience."

"Your kidding. Seriously? You want _eye contact?_ Better redesign that Halloween mask then. Kind of hard to hold a good stare contest what with those obscuring white lenses in that ever-present cowl you wear, Oh Dark Lord of the Gotham."

"What I _want_ is professionalism from you at all times. I will not have some _love sick puppy_ being distracted and putting the team in danger."

Now Wally did turn around. His eyes were unnaturally wide and glistening with tears.

"But Batz-give me a chance to show how..._good_ I am!" he wailed in a high-pitched entreaty. The next second he was standing mere inches in front of Batman's face, all signs of levity gone.

"Listen up, Batz. Okay, so maybe it _was_ you I was dreaming about in there. Don't worry though, I'm sure our relationship will remain platonic. You see, I respect you and what you can do. So much so that when I'm in trouble I instinctively tend to look to you to get me out of it. You're like the alpha leader watching out for the pack up there on the hill. You save our butts and we try to do likewise because we're alike-that is, we're family surviving in a hostile world. But desire you? _Get real._ You're one cold bastard, Batz. Oh sure there's a warm heart in there somewhere, but you've got it smothered in so many layers of insulating ice even Captain Cold is envious. Maybe _he'll_ be interested in a stare-down date with you. Now, me? I like a bit of sunshine in my life. You know-warmth, light, laughter-signs of living life rather than watching it from the shadows? But stuff like that would cause your ass to shrivel up faster than the Wicked Witch of the West in a hot tub. So if that's all settled-and I really hope it is-I have some media feeds to go oversee."

He whirled about towards the monitor room, but at normal speed just to show he wasn't worried about any comebacks.

"Superman is dating Lois."

Wally stopped in his tracks. Considered it. Then lifted an arm and flipped him the Bird before walking on again.

Batman waited until he was certain the speedster was truly gone before he allowed the slightest of smiles to cross his lips.

Wallace Rudolph West was no Barry Allen. Whomever he ended up marrying was going to get an interesting life.

* * *

"J'onn."

The greeting lacked its usual tone of joviality as he sat down frog-style in the _co-pilot's_ chair of the Monitor Room and glanced at the various goings on depicted within the satellite feeds. Honestly, Wally didn't care about what J'onn might be thinking. He _certainly did not care_ that Batman would not like his boot soles resting on the chair seat edge. He _doubly_ didn't give a hoot that Batz frowned upon a grown man in a position of responsibility _liking_ to sit in the same manner a five-year old boy tended to. Wally was too steamed.

_If they were all going to act like jackasses over a stupid dream, why did they bother to save him?_

"Flash."

"Sorry I'm late," Wally muttered into his knee caps. "Had a run in with Mr. Rules & Regulations otherwise known as the Greatest Stick-Up-His-Ass Alive."

It took the Martian only a second to figure out Wally had been talking to Bruce rather than Clark. (He wasn't supposed to know any of the others secret identities, but it had been unavoidable those first few weeks when he'd had to learn how to blot out errant thoughts from the multitude on his adopted planet. Wally in particular had not been able to stop from _unknowingly 'shouting'_ who he was from the very beginning: _"Hi! I'm The Flash-" [Wally West] "-the Fastest Man Alive!" 'Clark Kent'_ had leaked out from Superman during a trying battle of words with a nasty reporter; 'Bruce Wayne' had actually been supplied by The Man of Steel as well: _[If only you knew that I'm Clark Kent of the Daily Planet, you hack. Bruce Wayne is Batman, not-]_ But J'onn kept all of this to himself, naturally, not wanting to upset or make them even more paranoid of _the mind-reading alien_ in their midst.)

"You are in trouble with Batman?" From what he was getting from Wally's mood, there was more to it than a quick war of differing opinions.

"Yeah...sort of." The speedster snaked two fingers under his cowl in order to scratch at an irritation near his hairline. Sometimes it drove Wally crazy when he was patrolling his cities and got an itch because it wasn't always safe to take down his cowl even with reflexes as fast as his were. Not _these_ days when there were things like digital cameras with professional stop-motion photography options. "Batman thinks I have a crush on him."

J'onn allowed himself a small smirk at that. He'd housed the man's mind after all and therefore knew a few _personal_ things about Wally. Again, not that Flash needed to know this. "And you do not have this...crush?"

"No! Well...yeah...kinda." Wally drummed a quick beat against the smooth metal under seat of his swivel chair, considering his words. "But it's like I told him. I respect the guy, you know? He's good at what he does-saving people, stopping criminals, designing kick-ass space stations and designer toothbrushes that double as personal security devices." A calculated kick sent his perch spinning while he sat on it, chin comfortably nestled upon his knees; a fairly slow orbit in deference to the chair's rather low kinetic-tolerance level. As Batman had warned him on day one: _'It's not meant for a merry-go-round.' _ "Still, Batz is only one man in the team. Each one in the League has his or her strengths and weaknesses."

Eyes still on the screens and data feeds, the Martian titled his head a little in what he knew was a human gesture for _'go on'_. Of all the League members, J'onzz was the most adept at multi-tasking. Wally apparently wanted to talk as he immediately started voicing his views on the the Founders.

"Batman is the ninja detective. If you're totally flummoxed over what's going on, you turn to Bats because he's like Einstein-ya know, if Einstein had been really _buff _when he was young_?_ You can't get near him-not really-because he's mystical and almost ghostlike. But he always shows up like a guardian spirit out of the darkness when the shadows suddenly get creepy. He's the protector against the unseen.

Superman is Sir Lancelot on steroids. He's got _brute_ power-utterly good for when you can _see_ evil coming at you in spades and you really, really, _really_, need that indestructible force of Big Blue there plowing it aside for you. At the same time he's approachable. Easy going unless you muck up something truly royal. Supes can be kinda judgmental then, but it takes a lot to get him to a Bat level of grimness.

GL is...General Patton. Kind of stiff, gruff. If it wasn't for his suit, on first impression you'd call him colorless. Still, you just know that no matter how tough it gets, he's going to keep on there at your side because it's his duty to rid the universe of evil shit and he's got the willpower to fuel this kick-ass ring that will see the job done to the end. You can count on The Green Lantern. GL's controlled determination. Friendly, but in a controlled way. He finds it hard to cut loose.

Shayera is Mother Nature: temperamental. One moment she's all gentle and the next she's destroying stuff with gusto. Determined too. She's like GL's other-impulsive-half." Wally made a circular motion with his hand even as his whole body was sent rotating again in the swivel chair by a second well-placed kick. "That tao thing? Ain't nothing going to stop her once she sees an objective she can bash her way to and sometimes that's too _wild_ for what's needed so she needs GL to balance her out. But she can laugh at stupid stuff...stuff that GL just doesn't get is funny unless you point it out to him. So they're good for each other even if they don't always realize it."

Diana...Diana is the Goddess of Devotion. She's devoted to ideals, to her gods, to her people. Give her a good cause to believe in and she's there to champion it against all naysayers. But she's not really a part of what she gets into. She keeps herself a bit separate because that's how she was raised...royalty from a society of isolationists come to _save us ignorant savages_. I've never seen her relax-really _relax_. Everything is so formal and proper. Sometimes I want to do something as improper as whisk her to a Sadie Hawkins dance just to see her reaction to us non-royalty or Goddess-blessed common folk having a good time. Bet she's never in her life heard a _whiskey jug_ being played."

"And I?" J'onn asked with some amusement, wondering what the League would think of Flash's assessment of the team.

Wally smiled as he kept on spinning. (Thanks to his power, he didn't get motion sickness very easily. It took someone on the level of The Top to make him get dizzy.) "Oh, you're Yoda, J'onn. All ancient wisdom and knowledge. You've got smarts like Batz, but its tempered by a healthy dollop of caring. You're also pretty isolationist-and I think in your case you tell yourself it's because you're an alien here; but honestly, _I_ think it's because you were alone for so long that you are afraid your social skills have gotten too rusty and are hesitant to relearn them at more than a minimum level. You're afraid of being burned by more than just physical fire."

"So what you are saying is that when you are _uncertain_ of some nebulous danger, you dream of Batman; when the danger is _more certain_, you imagine Superman?"

Wally nodded. "Yeah. And if I'm feeling bored it's Shayera and Green Lantern and we throw a party at some arcade place with bashing games for Shayera and marksmanship ones for GL-with lots of pizza and soda for me. But if I'm feeling_ guilty_ over something, Diana drops by with a lecture."

"I see." J'onn half turned from the monitors. There was currently nothing going on that the local authorities couldn't handle. "And under what type of dream would I appear?" He had meant it as a light-hearted inquiry, but...

Wally had stopped the chair. His normally pale complexion was shaded several levels of pink. There was a blur of red as Flash abruptly left the room. J'onn immediately felt contrite. Before he could consider the empty chair before him for very long, another blur signaled Wally's return to it mere moments later-with a half drained cup of some refreshment in hand and both feet on the floor. A possible sign of readiness to take off again as container and hand were vibrating a little from nervousness. Food crumbs sticking around his mouth silently attesting to a snack binge.

"I am sorry, for my impertinence, Flash. That was not a question I should have asked under any circumstances let alone after what you recently experienced. You're privacy should be respected; especially by me."

"W-w-what?" Flash stammered. "No! God, J'onn, I-" The cup was almost instantly emptied; its remains finding their way into the nearest trash receptacle. "I-" Yellow boots made scuffing sounds against the floor as the speedster frowned and took in several long breaths. "It's okay, I mean it's just that..." He hiccuped several times in quick succession; the chair shaking slightly from an assortment of unconscious vibrations emanating from it's occupant.

"Please forget I said anything," J'onn started to say, feeling he really should have stayed quiet and let Wally do all the talking.

"You'reinallofthem."

J'onn blinked. He wasn't certain if he'd heard correctly. Even if he had, he wasn't sure what the speedster meant by it. "Flash?"

Wally looked down at the floor, his face now red with embarrassment. "I said...you are in all of them."

"I...I'm sorry. I don't quite understand." And he truly didn't. But Wally must have decided J'onn had understood something false because his eyes widened a little.

"Aw-geez-nothing indecent!" He shyly glanced up at the Martian, then decided that he didn't feel that brave after all and went back to studying the floor's... flatness. It was an interesting kind of flatness. The kind of flatness you could study all day.

Really.

_Hell._

"It's like those dreams where you suddenly sense that someone's _watching_ you dreaming." Wally began trying to explain. He wasn't sure he _wanted_ to explain anything more, but he did owe J'onn his life.

Again.

"You mean that you dream of me watching you interact with whomever it is you are dreaming about?"

The speedster nodded. "Yeah. Because...um..." That itch had migrated. He nervously scratched the back of his cowl. "Well, like I was trying to say before. I like everyone. I mean, I _want to like_ everyone because people are so different and I imagine they are all interesting in some way-er...'cept for the evil dudes because that would be-trying to get to know Darkseid would be like, really icky, ya know?" He sensed J'onn wordlessly agree. "But deep down I know that it's naive to think like that-or at least _act_ like that all the time. _Dangerous_-because not everyone is trustworthy...?" He glanced up again to gauge J'onn's reaction and saw that the Martian was regarding him with a quiet intensity. He blushed again. "So...after the Justice Lords-especially _that_ Superman-there's always this nasty thought that maybe... Well, maybe I'm _too_ trusting. That I really need some kind of...chaperon to stop me from putting my faith in the wrong people even if they don't _seem_ like the wrong people and Central/Keystone ends up with a Flash _Memorial_ Museum rather than The Flash Museum with Luthor taking the oath and getting fried and...you _know__?_"

"Quis Custodiet Ipsos Custodes?" J'onn inhaled with growing understanding. "Who guards the guardians?" _Who guards -even other heroes- from the most powerful of them?_

"Yeah," Wally still looked shaky. "I hate it. I _hate_ having this niggling fear of my friends in the back of my head, but its there-it's not going away-and maybe that's ultimately a good thing to have-like the fear of falling off a cliff-_not that I need to be afraid of that very much, so_-the fear of doing something dumb? And you're...you could get in my head at any time you want even before I knew you existed-but you don't. I mean, I wouldn't trust that kind of power to Batman because there's this idea that Batz might eventually come up with what he sees as a _good reason_ for doing it. And Supes _says_ he doesn't use that X-ray vision for-recreational-purposes, but you never know and sometimes you lie in bed at night wondering if that birth mark is really known only to you and your doctor and...and...you start to sweat before you tell yourself you're being paranoid."

"Flash," J'onn's attention was now undeniably light years away from the monitors. "There was a Justice Lord of me as well."

The speedster shrugged. "I..do remember that. Yeah. But even that J'onn _apologized_ first for tricking us. Nobody else did so much. Well, Lord Batz _was_ pretty scared I'd somehow managed to kick the bucket despite all his grand preparations." He sighed. "I _know_ it doesn't really sound logical, but-hey-when was my mind ever logical? At any rate, you're always there in all the dreams, silently watching over me...keeping me safe...except-"

"Except for one time," J'onn finished for him. "The time when your mind was encapsulated in mine and in order to keep you distracted from your fear...Batman made love to you."

"Yeah." J'onn watched Wally's Adam's apple bob up and down as the speedster swallowed hard. He was clearly remembering the dream that had seemed so _'off'_.

"I wasn't there that time as your watching guardian, _Wally_, because..._I was_ that Batman."

A faint exhalation, heavy with half-denied _realization_. "Oh."

The young human's mind was radiating pure confusion and it had the side effect of paralyzing his body. J'onn reached deliberately to push Flash's mask up and over unto his head. Fingers gently spreading out over reddish hair...searching. Trusting green eyes locked on his; nervous, yes, but not afraid-never afraid of him.

Not the eyes or face of a Martian...yet this mind's innocent acceptance of an alien watching him, guarding him...never questioning J'onn's stated morals...

_Breathtaking._

"You were so beautiful in my mind."

Wally didn't move.

Just waited.

.

.

_He trusted J'onn._

* * *

**A/N:** Wow. The more 'just a quickie' I decide to write-the longer it grows! This started as a simple 2,000 word 'looks-like-Batflash-but-ultimately-isn't' short for my drabble outlet and was based on that Batflash picture. Boy, did it morph! _(And that was J'onn's fault as he was supposed to be fairly innocuous in this.)_

What happened at the end? Was J'onn holding along with Wally a secret crush and now it's romantically out of the closet to both of their future enjoyment? Or was this something far more insidious with J'onn revealing _how much_ Wally's concern about naivety and trust was not unfounded-plus how Lord Manhunter could be as manipulative and possessive as a Lord Superman could be? Honestly, I have no idea which reality is correct. I'm as mystified as you are because each time I went over it I couldn't decide. Possible it is that a certain Martian is doing shenanigans with my brainwaves. So take your own stab of what the ending signified and review it. I enjoy those suckers a heaping lot-especially if the comment is something I can respond to.


	2. Giving CPR

**A/N:** Because I've been asked to more than once for more J'onn and Wally...and...the muse finally noticed it's butt was being kicked and paid attention. Note that eventually there will be another chapter...and it will likely change the rating to at least T.

* * *

_Chapter Two: Giving CPR_

_Oh God, oh God...I can't get loose! Stupid-not-paying-attention! Batman? Supes? Shay? Di? J'onn! J'onn, over here! I can't...I can't let it kill me! If I die the Lords will...stop-no-I can't-let-can'tcan'tcan't! I..aaah-_

_.  
_

"Flash?" Shayera raised her fork a little from her plate, it's small prongs delayed from the mission of spearing the next mouthful. Her eating companion hardly blinked at the broken silence and he was still so pale. In fact, he hardly moved at all.

That was part of the problem.

"Yeah?"

_._

_Who did you dream about, Flash? We need to know._

_I...doesn't matter.  
_

_If it doesn't matter, than it shouldn't matter to tell either.  
_

_Can't we just forget it? Please?_

_No, we can't. Just give us a name. Flash? Flash! Get back here!  
_

.

"Are you alright?" Shayera asked again.

"Fine and dandy." He gave her a quizzical look, obviously wondering what she was getting at...as if it wasn't blatantly obvious that things between him and her were off. Or just off in general, really.

Flash had taken _one_ pizza to eat despite that there were four of them still hot from the oven and he'd only eaten a quarter of it.

.

Since the cafeteria fiasco the last time they'd gotten together, Flash had started eating alone in his room. But that had been only for the first day as everyone knew the speedster couldn't bear to hold a grudge for much longer than that. However, the second day he'd been unusually silent, content to listen to the others talk and not answering any questions other than to blow them off; He'd only eaten a few mouthfuls then left almost the same minute he'd arrived. To say the least it had been an unusual past few meal breaks. Today he'd checked first to make sure Shayera was alone before cautiously moving to take a seat across from her with his plate of of pizza...apparently deciding that one person potentially 'ganging up' on him was more tolerable than three. Shayera felt bad about that...but curiosity was killing her and he shouldn't be hiding anything from his friends like he was doing. It wasn't...well, it wasn't like _Flash_ to be so close mouthed. He hadn't been shy about himself before so he shouldn't keep secrets now.

.

"Then you normally stare off into space while in the middle of eating?"

A bit sheepishly, her friend glanced down at his partially consumed dinner ensemble, eying the food with an uncharacteristic detachment.

"Yeah...I mean no...no, just thinking."

"Must be something -or maybe someone?- pretty darn important to make you drift off half way through a double-crust, triple-topping pizza," Shayera teased him, enjoying the sight of his cheeks turning even redder. Really, Flash was so easy to get discombobulated. "Thinking about someone special? Someone like...maybe...Batman?"

_._

_Think of Batman._

_I was that Batman.  
_

_._

Flash gave a little smile before digging into his food again with a sloppy disregard for any dining room etiquette. "Nope. I don't moon over tall, dark, loners. That's _your_ specialty."

_Touché_

"But you were mooning over someone?" Shayera pressed. It was currently the juiciest topic at the Watchtower: who had Flash dreamed about? She and Diana had already discounted Flash's having an infatuation with them or John seeing as he had pretty much said so while under the spell of Wonder Woman's lasso. (Thank goodness, too, as John had been rather perturbed about the very idea of his buddy pining for either her or himself.) That left Superman, Martian Manhunter, or Batman as potential crushes...unless Flash was seeing someone not a superhero. They'd agreed that this was unlikely...otherwise the tabloids would surely have gotten wind of it by now. Diana was thinking Superman, seeing as Flash always seemed deferential in an awed sort of way whenever "Big Blue" came near him. John and Shayera were sure it was Batman because of the whole "opposites attract" angle and the fact that Flash tended to tease the man a lot...when Batman wasn't around to hear it and snap at him. As for the Dark Knight's opinion on the matter? He refused to speculate and no one dared to question J'onn given how the Martian had gotten rather huffy about being asked about Flash's personal life in the first place.

"Maybe?" Flash gathered up his empty plates in the blink of an eye and whisked them into the trash. He reseated himself at their table, leaning his elbows on the surface in order to casually rest his chin in both hands while regarding her with a cheeky wink. "Maybe I just got mesmerized listening to you go on and on about how truly awesome I am. Because...you know...I _am_ so totally awesome."

Shayera snorted. Now _this_ was the cocky hero she was familiar with! "Which only proves you weren't listening to me at all and your head's still lost in No-Man's Land." She emitted a little gasp of dismay, immediately contrite.

.

It had only been a few days since J'onn had released the young meta from the medical ward after...after his flesh had been cut to ribbons. So many bones had been broken or downright crushed by Brainiac's collecting probe that it was amazing Flash was still breathing when J'onn had carried the unconscious man home. They'd been so afraid Flash was going to die. If not for his high metabolism, the speedster likely would have. That, and J'onn's quick thinking. J'onn had made a split second decision to cradle Flash's mind within his own to save their friend from madness, but it was something neither seemed to really care to talk about with the others.

.

"Flash...I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

"It's okay." He waved off her apology, but it was clear that a shadow had fallen over his eyes and that his smile was forced. "It's over and done. I'm fine."

"Are you?" Her eyes betrayed her doubts. Flash had never outright lied to her as far as she knew; however, he was unparalleled at exaggeration. He might truthfully consider being able to run at all to be '_fine_'.

Flash leaned forward; hands switching from supporting his own chin to cupping her face. The material of his gloves was soft against her cheekbones, his touch gentle as if afraid he might hurt her by sheer accident. "Yeah, Shay. I mean...it's not something I want to go through again, not_ ever_; but...hey...I'm still able to run circles around the bad guys. Can't ask for better than that?" Self-consciously, his eyes darted away from her moist ones. "Of course all that energy needed to really and truly recuperate...it's got to come from _somewhere_. You going to eat those brownies?" His laughter slid from around a mouthful of baked chocolate as she moved to slap his arm in mock irritation -only to miss when he'd already slid out of reach -after dabbing a bit of chocolate frosting on her nose.

"Got chocolate? No? Now you do. Ha! Way too slow for the Fastest Man Alive!"

It was only when Flash had escaped out the door that Shayera realized he'd again artfully gotten off telling her whom he'd been daydreaming over.

Annoyed at being so easily tricked, Shayera threw her fork down on her plate and wiped at the frosting on her nose. "Damn it."

If Flash didn't spill his guts soon, she and John were going to have to resort to drastic measures. Sure, hidden cameras were probably a bit overkill, but she and John were Flash's friends. They had a prerogative to keep tabs on him. To stop him from getting emotionally hurt by a bad choice. It was in his best interest that they have some sort of clue in case his romantic bubble got burst and he spiraled down into depression as a result.

It wasn't snooping. Anyone could see it wasn't snooping.

It was being _caring_.

Oh, who was she kidding?

Curiosity might not be deadly to birds, but it wasn't doing a thing for her digestion. She wanted...nay, _needed_ to know!

"Who the hell is Flash in love with?"

* * *

"You are upset?"

Wallace's aura felt restricted...strained, though he smiled anyway as he sat cross legged in front of J'onn. He didn't ask for anything; just sat and waited for whatever J'onn wanted to say or do. The speedster was like that with him...trusting.

Accepting without expecting.

"Not at you."

J'onn's fingers began and did not pause in their journey of little circles over his tight shoulder muscles. "That is not what I meant." The hardness immediately gave way under his touch; Wallace openly mewled a bit in relief as that section of tension in him evaporated. He never could get see Batman's point of hiding stuff like happiness. If something felt good, why not express it if you wanted to?

Tactfully, of course. There was a time and a place.

"God, J'onn...you are sheer magic, you know that? Zatanna has nothing on you."

"Wallace?" He didn't need to elaborate. The speedster was avoiding an important subject and J'onn wasn't going to let him off that easy. Not push..simply remind him that J'onn was still waiting for a response as to what was troubling Flash.

Sighing, reluctant to say what was bothering him, Wally bit his lip before giving in. "It's the others. They think I'm holding some sort of sordid dalliance with another Founder and are trying to figure out who. I think there's even money involved...like a bet or something." He wasn't especially put out by being the subject of a bet...just dismayed that they didn't get the hint that he wanted them to drop the whole subject...to quite bringing up his nearly getting killed by a stupid mechanical squid thing that he should have been able to avoid in the first place.

_To forget the memory of pain: past pain in his body...ongoing pain in his failure to make sure The Justice Lord's never had a ghost of a chance of happening. The pain of his not staying constantly vigilant like Batman was. Why couldn't he do this simple thing?  
_

Nor did he care to talk about his non-existent romance with Batman. It didn't actually exist. Never would. He just wanted the topic to die a swift death.

"But you _are_ dallying with a Founder." J'onn felt amused by that. Of course, Wallace did not think of their meetings as dalliances...just...friendship sessions.

"Yeah...but it's hardly _'sordid'," _his friend protested with a sour tilt to his mouth,_ "_and it's not with Batman or Supes. Can you imagine a romantic tryst between me and Batman or Superman? That would be just..." he searched for an appropriate word "...scary."

"You seemed to enjoy it before," J'onn reminded him. He didn't mention that he'd enjoyed it as well. Flash was too emotionally destabilized right now to be seeking a mate. He needed friends around him for support; not lovers with complicated needs and desires.

Wallace's spirit was like a flame. Normally, that would be a bad thing as J'onn was afraid of fire; but Wallace's fieriness was not that of a conflagration bent on destruction. As with the heat radiating from the speedster's body it was warming without burning; the dancing energy...tantalizing. It was a flame J'onn was coming to yearn to have close by. He would comfort Flash for as long as Flash desired comfort from him.

"I was already scared so it was kind of moot." Wally let his torso fall back in order to burrow closer to the yielding skin of his living comforter. J'onn felt so soothingly cool and soft: like a down pillow bed with freshly washed cotton sheets on a summer's evening. He wanted to fall asleep right there and dream of pleasant things. "The real Batman would have my hide stuffed and mounted over the Welcome To Gotham City sign as a warning to anyone else fool enough to reach out to his kevlar-protected pumper. Mind, I love the terrifying Knight as a fearless protector. That doesn't make me _in_ love with him. Besides, he's too busy projecting disdain for everything meta." He grinned albeit a bit sadly. "Also, I want to live."

"Superman?" came the soft inquiry either into his ear or directly piped into his mind, Wally didn't care at this point as long as it was fairly quiet and let him snuggle into the softness.

"That would be scary because he's kind of like...a saint. You just don't think of saints like that. Ticket straight to Hell. Do not pass Go. Do not collect Eternal Happiness."

Wally sighed at the feel of fingers starting to card through his hair. "J'onn," he warily began, "I told you about how I saw everyone. How do you see me?"

"With my mind as well as my eyes." J'onn felt a gentle 'punch' to his flesh. The speedster was pouting.

"Don't get all evasive maneuvers on me, Mister. I answered your question. What do your mind and eyes see of me?"

Eyes glowing, J'onn didn't need to think about it. "I see a young soul with a burden worthier of those many times his years. Yet he doesn't complain about the strain of the load on his shoulders or the ridicule from those who do not share his values. He perseveres because to him it's the right thing to do and the right thing is the only choice conceivable. Any other course is false."

"Wow. That sounds...like a _fantasy_ of me. Not the real me at all." Wally reached up to stroke J'onn's oh-so-amazing skin. Instead his fingers met with a semblance of thick hair. He didn't comment on it; just ran some fingers through the silken mass, liking the 'poofiness' against his hand. If J'onn wanted to have hair right now, that was fine with him. In Human or Martian form this was still J'onn. "I mean...I'm too impulsive...just like everybody says."

"True. I, on the other hand, am at times too restrained," J'onn agreed. "I believe it was you who pointed _that_ personality quirk out."

"I make plenty of mistakes," Wally persisted. "I goof up all the time."

"No one is born a perfect Superman. Even The Man of Steel had to learn how to pick up an egg without crushing it. Mistakes, as with all painful stimuli, are symptom of being alive."

"Yeah, but my mistakes tend to be _doozies_."

J'onn chuckled. "The same can be said for your triumphs." He soothed the human's worried brow. "You are a being of extremes. Be aware of the thoughts of others, but know you are the planet Mercury: hot and cold, not meant to be rotating to others whims, but set to always see the light while yet firmly staring down the darkness. Do not try to turn on your axis so much just to see what others think of you...to change to their expectations. You've proven your own heart is already your best moral compass. One day, Superman will look up to you...if he doesn't already."

"Huh." Wally gave a short shake of his head. "Stop it, will you? Next thing you know I'll need a new cowl. I can feel my head swelling to two times it size."

"That's because you keep banging it against the wall of public opinion."

The speedster blinked up at him before he laughed and J'onn smiled at hearing the sound.

"You should joke more often, J'onn." He yawned. "Could use the practice. Want to sleep now."

"Then sleep," J'onn started to give his permission to continue to use him as a mattress, but the speedster was already out like a light, a smile on his lips.

His friend was slowly recovering emotionally as well as physically; and somehow, helping Flash heal was helping him to heal as well. It felt good to hold him like this...just touching and being touched. Sharing thoughts. Things J'onzz had missed upon the death of his wife and children. He'd always miss them. But even so...life always went on...and right now life was to be found in the bright presence of Wallace Rudolph West.


	3. Delayed Reactions

a/n: feeling down. decided to write something just to..write something. This fic has certainly morphed into a J'onn/Wally friendship piece.

* * *

Chapter 3: Delayed Reaction

He'd been fast asleep when an unknown jolt of alarm had woken him up.

A quick check around his room and the nearby rooms showed nothing amiss, so he went straight for the area most likely to show if and where there was trouble: the Monitor Room.

Everyone was standing there around Superman. Well, everyone save for J'onn.

Whoops, this certainly didn't look promising for his digestion. Wally hadn't seen so many unhappy faces since he'd tried to outwit The Riddler and ended up looking for clues in a carnival. Not that that hadn't been fun. Was it his fault he couldn't resist the temptation of chasing down the villain from the seat of a Batmobile-themed Bumper Car?

"Okay, why the long faces? Did someone forget to pay the cable bill?"

The League froze as one. A second later, six pairs of eyes zoomed in on Flash. Wally could actually see their eyeballs rotate from locked onto each other to aiming straight for him. Some aspects of living in a slo-mo world were still rather unsettling to witness and this was one of them.

"Brainiac is back with more...of those..._things_." Green Lantern rather hesitantly informed him.

Wally swallowed as a cold chill ran through his spine; took a deep breath; squared his shoulders; raised his arms and slammed one fist into a cupped palm.

"So what are we waiting for? Lets go kick Mechano-Squid butt!"

His enthusiasm was met, matched, and sent on a tailspin when after several seconds of dead air nobody expressed a similar sentiment.

"We will," Superman finally -yet all too somberly- agreed. "_You're_ staying here."

_Oh, they had got to be kidding him._

Apparently not. He could see it on their faces...their _dead set_ serious faces._ They were going to sideline him. _The thought of being coddled made Wally's blood boil and he wasn't about to hide his displeasure. His glare didn't have the power of Batman's, but it got the point across._  
_

"No way, Supes. I owe Brainiac the first swift kick and nobody does _swift_ kicks better than-"

"Flash..."

He turned his 'stubborn face' up to full bore. "So not going to cave, Big Blue; let's save the super breath for your next run in with a birthday cake." He glanced at the monitors. "Where's Squidworth at?" Batman reached out and touched a button. The screens all went dark, casting the room in even greater shadows. Having faster perception than anyone else, this didn't keep Wally from seeing the machine hovering over a nondescript skyscraper while taking a swipe at a glowing green dragon. Unfortunately, he still had no idea which one or where seeing as nondescript skyscrapers were a dime-a-dozen the world over.

"Very dramatic, there, Bats. All that did was mean I'm going to be doing a bit more globe trotting before I can start tenderizing steel sushi. Do you really want me to be in a battle at less than 100% just because I had to make a few unnecessary circuits around the planet?"

Superman was silent. He grimaced at Flash's expectant look. "Central City. Outside the Flash Museum."

That thing was in his city?

That thing was in his city!

_Flash's city._

_Home of The Flash._

_Oh._

Heck, the ramifications of that were not scary at all. Nope...and his knees were not turning into jello. It was just...the anticipation before a fight.

Yeah, and John played with Travel Sized Lite Bright during his off hours.

"You're going to stay here." Batman told him in the firm, no-nonsense way that was surely copyrighted. "We don't want you anywhere near it."

_Okay, that...that was kind of understandable, but really? They expected him to just sit this out, tail tucked firmly between his legs and let that thing hurt his people and possibly J'onn just because this robot was likely looking to continue where it's brother gizmo had left off?_

"I'm going."

"No. You're not."

He speed walked over to the monitor, pushing buttons to try to bring the image Batman had closed down back up. Just to make sure that J'onn was still holding his own. "Yes, I a-"

* * *

He hadn't even seen what had struck him down and, honestly, if it weren't for the likes of Rogue Sam Scudder taking advantage, Flash would consider replacing those radio antennae on his cowl with some rear-view mirrors.

When he came to they were long gone and he was locked in the cafeteria.

_Well, that was considerate of them. He'd have to take that into account when he bashed their heads together_ _Three Stooges style._

No...as much as he wanted to be severely pissed at his friends they'd only done this because they cared. He might shout at them a little once they returned, pout for awhile, maybe tie the ends of Superman's Batman's capes together in one truly tight knot, but that would be the extent of it.

Heck, They'd even left a couple of little notes on the fridge:

_Take care, Flash._

Of what, Diana? Changing the little baking soda box? Or would that be too stressful for the fastest man alive?

_Back before Fifteen Hundred Hours. Don't eat -all- the food.  
_

One guess who wrote that missive.

_Watchtower interior sensors and defenses are on. Stay. Put._

No need at all to guess there.

He punched a wall, making a sizable dent in the metal...also causing pain to bloom from his hand right up to his elbow.

"Ow!"

-Wallace?-

Wally forgot about his aching limb. He hastily answered the mental question with some of his own. "J'onn? Are you okay? Is everyone okay?"

-There were some bad moments, but yes, we defeated the probe.-

"That's good." He grimaced at his hand, but the ache was already subsiding. If only his hurt feelings would heal as fast. "Even if you ditched me."

-I am sorry. The others thought it best.-

"The others...you didn't?" Wally felt a bit of hope. Maybe he wasn't about to be shoved into a glass box for safe keeping if J'onn would stand up for him.

-No.-

"Oh."

-You may be happy to know that the probe was not from Brainiac, but a parody of one designed by Luthor. It was more easily dispatched and without our incurring any injuries.-

_Yeah, he'd be happy to know that if the thought of Luthor trying to bait the League by making it look like Brainiac was targeting Flash in particular didn't make him want to vomit. Not to mention the feelings that had coursed through him when he'd thought Brainiac -was- after him again; that he was being hunted by an alien computer of immense power and...  
_

-J'onn?- God, was he trembling? He was safe in the Watchtower. Luthor was probably on his way to jail. Why was he trembling?

-I am not going anywhere. We'll be back soon, Wallace, but in the meantime, I _am_ telepathically with you for as long as you desire. I will not leave you while you are in distress.-

"Thanks." Wally slid down to the floor and rested his forehead against the cool material of the cabinets. "I...I don't know what I'd do without you, J'onn. Sorry for being such a pain right now." He was. Wally hated feeling needy...of proving to himself that the others had been right in making him stay behind.

-You are not being a pain right now. When stealing my chocos, yes, but not right now. Unless you are eating them instead of Superman's apple pie?-

Giggling quietly, Wally smiled and looked up to where he knew the Martian's hidden stash was...safe, secure, and untouched. Superman's apple pie, though? Yeah, that was going to be history along with John's waffles. Batman didn't eat desserts unless Diana made them, but he could always do something later to get even with The Bat.

"Yep. The whole lot of 'em. Stuffing another in my mouth right now. Savoring every bite. Gonna be gone soon seeing as a certain Martian isn't here to stop the Great Oreo Massacre."

-In that case I am doubling my speed getting back.-

"I'm holding you to that."


	4. PTSD

a/n: Sorry chapter 3 was rather sketchy. I needed to kick-start myself to start writing again before the whole weekend was wasted. Didio's removing Wally and his history with the DCU just really sent me into a stage of denial/rage/depression. I've been mentally screaming at DC ever since. Still am.

Does anyone know the names of other DCU Martian gods besides Hronmeer?

* * *

Chapter 4: PTSD

The Martian was inclined to smile when he reached the cafeteria. Since he'd first contacted Flash, Wallace had been jokingly threatening to eat the precious chocolate cookies every five minutes if J'onn didn't show up to stop him. It wasn't totally funny, of course. Wallace was being comedic in an effort to to stay in the here and now and up until nearly a minute ago they'd been mentally conversing back and forth. J'onn regretted that he'd had to stop their connection at that point in order to concentrate on bypassing Watchtower security correctly lest the intricate security system go -as Shayera put it- "into a right tizzy"; however, Wallace had seemed in good spirits so J'onn was fairly sure he'd find the normally ebullient human stuffing his face with a few of J'onn's cookies...just enough to make it _look_ like the imp had eaten all of them. J'onn would act first shocked then mock angry as he vowed to hide Wallace's comic books in some nook or cranny where the speedster would not find them until Christmas Day...the next year following. Wallace would laugh and show him his bag of chocos still _nearly_ intact and then...

_Then he'd find the human staring blankly at the metallic sheen of his reflection from the stainless steel cabinetry._

"Wallace?" J'onn asked uncertainly; a sense of dread creeping over him.

"It's tearing...it's tearing me...J'onn...please..." the speedster plaintively gasped out, never veering his gaze towards J'onn. He whimpered before his jaw clenched unnaturally tight, rendered silent by a muscle spasm. Green eyes stared unseeing at his muted image frozen in silent horror of what he thought he was seeing.

_By Hronmeer!_

Springing belatedly into action, J'onn pulled Flash away from the silvery cutlery drawers, cursing fluently in Martian as the human made no protest at being so manhandled. A quick check confirmed that Wallace had not made use of any of the drawer contents...and J'onn thanked his gods for that even if Flash had never exhibited signs of turning suicidal: with an accelerated heart rate, a panicked meta human could quickly bleed out faster than he could replenish his blood level. It wouldn't matter then if the stab wound was accidental or planned...Flash..._Wallace_...would be dead.

_It was his fault_.

Wallace Rudolph West had of late been consigned to the Tower -a plethora of steel walls- where all he could do was brood and wait for his 'keepers' to release him for active duty. The League had foolishly thought that keeping Flash enclosed in a floating metal environment would make him _safe._ What they hadn't understood was that safe in body did not always equate with safe _in mind_.

_They had left him alone -locked in the cafeteria- after telling him the probe had returned._

A few moments for the speedster were like whole minutes for anyone else and he had only recently recovered from the last 'recall' episode. J'onn would address the others on these points later. His first concerns were treating the human for shock and the state of Wallace's mind, not whacking superheroes all on the head -and himself, yes, _himself most of all_- because he of all should have_ known_ better because...

For Hronmeer's sake, the Brainiac probe had been comprised of shiny metal!

_Shiny metal like a a dozen elongated thin mirrors reflecting back in horrific detail to the victim how they were ripping a human apart._

Placing his hands on either side of sweaty red hair and clammy skin J'onn commanded Flash's attention.

"Wallace, it is not real. Listen to me..._it is not real!"_

The dilated eyes didn't even flicker; heart and lungs continued to labor past all necessity. To Wallace, J'onn was not where he was; he was alone with a killing machine.

J'onn hurriedly changed form even as he sought a deeper contact with Flash's consciousness.

* * *

"Oh my..." The Green Lantern hastily backed away from the scene. Unconsciously, he used the power of his ring in this regard and it hurtled him backwards several yards before his back crashed into the wall of an intersecting passageway. He tilted his head back until it met the smooth, cool, surface and closed his eyes.

Stupid. He was tired from a long day and now his eyes were playing tricks on him; but instead of responding rationally, he'd reacted like some easily shocked new recruit. After taking a moment to calm down, John cautiously walked back to the entryway and peeked into the cafeteria.

Only problem was he hadn't imagined it: J'onn J'onzz in his dragon form _was_ curled on the floor, his serpentine body cradling Flash while the pale speedster clung to him. That in itself would not have been bad because it would imply that Flash was hurt and the Martian was checking on his condition.

(Well, it would have been _bad_, yes, because John never liked to see Flash hurt, but at least it would be _normal_ because Flash was too impulsive for his own good and got hurt more than he should.)

Correction: _would_ be normal -if- the dragon hadn't sprouted several fin-like membranes that were busy caressing the mewling speedster and that included places where even a doctor should keep a policy of 'hands off' unless medically necessary.

Freaking hell?

"Get the hell away from him!" John's ring flared in a brilliant emerald glow, a visual backup to his demand. Green Lantern was ready to attack with all the power of Oa if that was what it took to stop J'onzz from...from...

He couldn't even think the word.

Flash jerked and moaned in pain.

Okay, that was it! John started to imagine, piece by piece the biggest gun this side of Arcturus.

A spiked tail whipped around to capture John's wrist, but not firmly enough to cause injury. Orange eyes glowed at him with displeasure. For the oddest moment, John felt like he was the transgressor here...that it was not J'onzz, but John who was the one whose action would be unwelcome and unwarranted.

-Do not shout. If you wake him now you will cause great damage to his mind-

"Then-!" the pressure around his wrist tightened before he could finish.

-_Quietly._ Think back to me and I will answer you, but only if you _keep the volume low_.-

John bared his teeth, but closed his mouth, switching to just thinking really hard at the Martian. -Then explain. Now. Or so help me, J'onn...-

-Wallace is suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Body contact of this kind soothes him. _So does the lack of loud noises_- J'onn emphasized the last with another quick squeeze of his tail tip.

John forced himself to think calmly if with no less rancor. Getting into a brawl with J'onn when the Martian was so completely coiled around his buddy was not the wisest course. -Yeah, because he looks so peaceful right now with you molesting him.-

Again the orange eyes sparked with barely submerged ire.

-I assure you that his mental state at this time is vastly improved over what it was a few minutes ago when he was reliving being killed. Also, I am hardly molesting him. Pleasant physical stimulation negates the nightmares he has been having-

-Pleasant...fucking hell, this isn't the first time? You've been doing this ever since...?- For a second, John was at a loss for words...at least those that weren't comprised solely of swear ones. It was unbelievable. How could J'onn do that to Flash? Then the truth dawned on him like the light of a pulsar...first 'oh!' then 'no way' and back again. -_You're_ the one he's having a relationship with?-

-You would find that offensive?- J'onn asked, sounding both miffed and hurt.

-Well _yeah!_ I mean _no."_ John felt a headache coming on. -I mean _I don't know_. I just...never really saw Flash as having that sort of...he's always ogling after beautiful women...he...- He stopped himself because, really, it was pretty common knowledge amongst the group that Flash was the touchy-feely type. Heck, though he was loathe to admit it, John was a bit physical with Flash as well...only his version was to slap the kid in the back of the head a mite. Knock some sense into him.

The pressure on his wrist went away. John thought at first it was purely voluntary on J'onzz part...until the hairs on the nape of his neck rose and he turned around.

Batman stood there; the Dark Knight was silent, quiet, menacingly considering what he saw and passing private judgement as sole magistrate, jury, and executioner. Without so much as glancing at J'onn and Flash, he indicated with a tilt of his head that John and he should depart the cafeteria and leave the other two alone. John considered rebelling against the unspoken order; yet curiosity got the best of him, so he marched outside with Batman following behind. Once past the door, the Dark Knight closed and locked the entryway.

"You knew." John acidly accused him. "You knew all along that...that...J'onn and Flash were..." he still couldn't say it.

"It was none of our business." Batman cut him off without agreeing or denying it. _"It still isn't."_

Green irises glowed brighter. "That sentiment would make more of an impact if it wasn't coming from the one who regularly puts tracking devices on his teammates." He sighed as Batman didn't seem in the least affected by his words no matter how true. "So we let Flash get used?"

Batman's eyes narrowed at Green Lantern's choice of vocabulary. "No; because J'onn will not hurt him."

"He's a Martian..." John began then scoffed at the Dark Knight's scowl. "Don't give me that look, Batman. I'm a Lantern of a whole sector or space, dammit, my bosses are little blue gnomes and my trainer was the equivalent of a space hippo; I'm not xenophobic. But anyway you slice it Wally is an immature human and J'onn is..." Stewart tried and failed to find a comparison..."_nothing_ like him. They just aren't compatible."

"Flash enjoys his company."

"Flash has a crush on _you_." John pointed out. "Kid's not exactly an expert in socializing and picking a good match for himself." That was why he and Shayera felt empowered to watch over the kid, because Wally was lousy at judging character. He needed supervision.

Batman was not a mind reader, but he was observant.

"Whether you feel Flash is competent enough to make his own choices or not, J'onn is one of the wisest beings I know. Reign in your misplaced protective instinct long enough and you'll realize that. Until you do, I suggest you steer clear of both of them."

* * *

Wally felt a line of kisses being placed down his neck and sighed. He was lying in that pool of warm water again...the one that made music. That meant he was safe from his enemies because the pool must be located in the Batcave. This made sense because whenever he found himself here Batman would show up.

Languidly, he opened his eyes and saw a blurred colorscape of light skin and dark fabric.

Yep. Batman was leaning over him, cape and all, caressing his body, stroking his hair. Batman was protecting him from...

The Dark Knight stopped kissing his throat as the speedster he was making love to started to squirm and struggle from under him.

"Don't think...just relax...you are recovering from...a stressful mission. All is well...relax."

"No... I...no." Two red-clad hands pushed against smooth Kevlar. "J'onn?" He whined, "where's J'onn?"

Cocking his head, The Batman frowned. "Are you not content with me? You should relax and let Batman protect..."

Wally pushed harder. "I said...no, Bats! Stop...stop being...weird." The speedster fought his way to his feet, swaying like he was intoxicated. He blindly glanced around, trying to blink his way to clearer vision, something that didn't seem to be happening for him but he was nothing if not stubborn. Just ask anybody; he was one stubborn cuss when he wanted to be.

Stubborn and without a clue as to where this was other than it was a safe place in the Batcave...somewhere things-not-nice didn't come to because Batman was there. He was standing in a shallow pool of water though; that much was obvious; he already knew that. There were green lights floating under the water and overhead like Japanese lanterns...if Japan was inhabited by alien pod people. Possibly a cave-warming gift from Supes. Supes kept weird stuff in his Fortress and he liked Batman so that made sense. It was rather pretty, actually (the green stuff was), if a bit surreal. Of course he was seeing it all from the view of myopia. "Where's...J'onn?"

"You want...J'onn?" a confused Batman asked. He sounded rather out of sorts by the inquiry.

Rolling his eyes, Wally grunted in exasperation. "Yes, Bats, J'onn. Have the Bat ears gone deaf?"

"Why?"

"Because..." Wally ran a hand through his mysteriously dry hair as he tried to think straight, "because I like J'onn more," he decided. "No hard feelings, but J'onn's just nicer and...I like him...okay?" He turned around...rather awkwardly, yet managed to not fall onto his bum. He called out, "J'onn?"

"I'm here."

Wally turned around and saw saw that a light green blur had replaced the beige and black one. "There you are, J'onn!" He grinned. "I'd say you were a sight for sore eyes, but I can't seem to see very well. Hope I don't need glasses," he mused. "That would be awful for publicity...a four-eyed Flash. Maybe contacts..." He reached out. "Would you mind?"

J'onn reached out and held him. "Better?"

Wally sighed with relief. "Much."

"Wallace, how do you feel...other than nearsighted?"

"Good." He smiled. "Well, pretty good. I mean, you're here...with me and the alien pod lantern things. All wet. It's like Singing In The Rain with The Fastest Man Alive as an unsteady Gene Kelley and you as the policeman guy..." His face settled into a thoughtful expression. "Well, no...'cause he was kind of angry at Gene for jumping in the puddles and stuff." He looked up at J'onn. "Would you be mad at me if I jumped in the puddle here? Because it makes music and everything so I think I might be able to get it to do the theme music...maybe?" He experimentally tapped a foot into the water. It made a chiming noise. "I can sing, you know. Not so sure about the dancing part, but..."

"Perhaps it would be best not to..."

To J'onzz utter bemusement Flash separated from the Martian's hold and started splashing and skipping in his Pool of Serene Meditation sending the sacred element cascading high up to fall down in scattered droplets...which resulted in music that was not even close to that of Singing In The Rain; still, the speedster didn't seem to care.

"I'm singing in the rain, just singing, in the rain! What a glorious feeling, I'm happy again!"

Despite himself...J'onn smiled.

Perhaps serenity was overrated anyway.

* * *

a/n: honestly, people, reviewing doesn't cause cancer. I don't care if it's just a **:)** or a **:(** . I know you're out there...globally so at that.


	5. In Your Best Interest

Chapter 5: In Your Best Interest

"So..." An apprehensive Wally West drummed his gloved fingers on the table, trying not to feel like the five-year-old boy who'd been called in to explain to the Principal as to why he'd dunked one of his classmate's dangling pigtails into the yellow and purple acrylic paint pots. Something told him that his reasons here weren't going to go down any better than when he'd tried to expound to Mr. Madison about the allure of Anne's pigtails and their greater size potential compared to that of the measly little paintbrushes the school had provided them with seeing as he was working on a space scene masterpiece that when completed would just blow away Jimmy D's pathetic robot battle depiction. Also that being hauled in like this was curtailing his creativity to the point that he didn't feel in _the groove_ anymore and it was all the school's fault if he failed as the next Leonardo de Wimpy...which was just as well because who wanted to lumped with someone who had such a lousy name?

Wally looked up to see the others staring at him; looked down again just as quickly.

_Boy, did Supes look uncannily like art critic Mr. Madison or what?_

Anxious for something to take his mind off of things, the nervous speedster considered the pad of paper someone had left behind on the table. He could fill the time between castigations by creating some uncomplimentary doodles of everyone, but there was no pen or pencil left behind...darn it.

(The forgotten pad was grabbed up anyway as it still held possibilities.)

"So..." Wally reiterated, lacking the faintest idea of what to say to the waiting Founders; however that didn't mean he was without any ideas at all. Fingers busily messed with college-lined pages as he considered his options.

Superman finally opened his mouth.

"Flash, we realize that this hasn't been the most ideal situation for you. However, you should have called us the moment you started feeling distress."

_Uh huh. They'd left me behind to go battle Hal 2000 and it was my fault that this has stressed me out?_

"Yeah, well, I wasn't exactly briefed on my duties there, Supey-dupey. Someone forgot to add that command to the fridge post-it notes. Now, if you were out of those and don't want to risk contributing to the paper left in landfills, maybe we should invest in a few sets of those magnet-board alphabet letters? Nice and bright ones so as to be sure to capture the resident kiddie's wayward attention while mommy and daddy were out on an errand?"

"Sarcasm-"

Wally threw his hands into the air. "Hey, I was drugged, Supes! Possibly suffering from a concussion! Or...hey, maybe what happened was from whatever the side effect would be for whatever the heck it was you guys used to knock me out! By the way, thanks for that. Nothing like discussing battle options one moment and vacationing in the Land of Nod the next."

"Calm yourself. The chemical I used does not have side effects," Batman informed him.

"Oh good," Wally speed fiddled with yet another sheet from a pad of paper he'd made his own. He sent the paper airplanes leisurely sailing around the table on their stealth missions, "it _was_ FDA approved then? God knows I wouldn't want to end up being part of the target audience of some sleazy lawyer firm half a decade from now..._"Were you given Bat-Knock-Out within the past five years? Experiencing frequent headaches and the desire to punch out egotistical superheroes? If so, you may be eligible for compensation..."_

_Ha! The x-wing squadron's trajectories were right on their targets.  
_

From out of nowhere an equal number of emerald tie fighters blasted his poor Paper Squadron from the sky via their superior fire power before the notepaper ships could hit the back of anyone's head. Green Lantern scowled at the most likely perpetrator...indeed the only candidate for this kind of behavior...just to see that said person had nonchalantly plopped both feet onto the table. Flash grinned innocently back at them all.

"Would you be serious for once in your life?" John complained. He used another beam to move the yellow boots back to the floor. "Stop acting like a child."

"Said Emperor Green Lantern with the action-play Death Star crammed into his ring."

John sputtered some choice words; Wally was too busy building another squadron to pay attention to just what they were.

"Enough of this, both of you." Batman hissed.

"You could have died." a grim Superman pointed out.

"Would everyone stop being so melodramatic?" Exasperated with it all, Wally abandoned his war effort in order to fold his arms and deliberately put his feet up on the table again...dangerously close to Hawkgirl's nose. "I wouldn't have _died_." This time it was Shayera who shoved his boots off, giving him a glare that that warned him not to do that ever again or he would, indeed, expire before his time. Green eyes glanced swiftly between Shayera and Diana. "I'm not your typical frail, screaming, female in need of saving."

Experiencing a flash of Artemis's wisdom regarding male diversionary tactics, Wonder Woman clamped one hand onto Shayera's wrist to stop any hasty retaliation by the Thangarian. "That's not the impression we got from J'onn," a determinedly compassionate Diana softly corrected him. (She was not going to let him goad her to anger in attempt to change the subject.) "He was pretty insistent that you were near death's door or worse."

Wally inwardly cringed at her words. He could tell she was sincere. Diana was _always_ sincere. Had he really been that close to dying again? He moodily nudged one of his half-formed Sopwith Camels...complete with a little Snoopy drawing in the cockpit. "Yeah...well, I still say I would have been fine if you guys had just let me come along," he sulkily pointed out.

Across the table, Superman leaned forward, blue eyes darkened by worry. "That's what J'onn said as well. In fact, he read us the riot act for being ultimately responsible for your...nightmare."

"You mean my freaking out," Wally mumbled loud enough for everyone to hear. Reaching up with both hands, he yanked back his cowl uncaring that they could see his face. It wasn't like that mattered to him anymore being as he'd likely be kicked out of the League anyway. His fingers fisted into his scalp and tugged lightly at the red filaments. "Don't pussyfoot around it. Say what you mean. I get left alone for an hour and I freak out so much that J'onn had to dig me out of my red peanut head and into his own walnut where I went seriously tripping through his mind like..."

"Gene Kelley?" John snorted.

Wally lifted his gaze enough to give John the evil eye. "Yeah...like _that_. At least it wasn't like Old Yeller?" He felt a pang of guilt as Stewart went rigid.

"Don't even joke about it."

Tired, Wally scrubbed at his face. "Sorry, GL. Just...it's been a long day. Or month. Whatever. I'm exhausted and hungry for nutty ice cream with crushed oreos and whipped cream, and where's J'onn anyway?" Why wasn't J'onn here to take his side? Had the Martian grown weary of him?

"J'onn was called away by NASA. Something they wanted him to look at."

"Oh." Wally suppressed a shiver of separation anxiety. As embarrassing as it was to admit -and he had no intention of doing so- J'onn had become something of a security blanket for him. John was soft and safe.

"Given your...recurring episodes...we feel it would be wise and in your best interest if there was someone with you at all times."

"Really?" Wally perked up with a show of cheerfulness. "Can I choose who? Because in that case I'd happily bunk with Diana."

The other Founders groaned out against that idea. He smirked at their sour faces, sparing a wink at Diana to let her know he was joking. "It was worth a shot."

Batman's deep voices filled the room. "You'll be sharing a room with me."

_Carumba._

Wally's smile immediately deflated. "You're kidding? I mean, it would be a first and a reason to mark the date with my best glitter pen, but c'mon...you're kidding?" Batman just glared. "Can't I compare footie pj's with someone else instead?" Wally gave a nervous laugh. "I mean, I've always wanted to check out Superman's dresser drawers...you know, answer the big questions for his fans: wool boot socks or nylons? Boxers under the red briefs or aerodynamic speedos like yours truly because...you know...underwear lines just don't jive with spandex?" When they didn't answer he let his forehead hit the table. "So much for suppressing nightmares."

"Or not spreading them..." a blushing League muttered, now wondering just what The Man of Steel did wear.

* * *

Feeling like a condemned prisoner instead of just a generic one, Wally walked beside two of his best friends and pondered the ugliness of fate.

It just wasn't fair!

"Shayera, why am I staying with Bats tonight?"

"Because J'onn won't be back until tomorrow."

Wally clicked his tongue before turning his head the other way. "GL, why am I staying with Mr. Scary tonight?"

"Because J'onn advised that Batman's presence would ease your mind's fears about getting attacked and stifle another stress attack. Also, that Batman is the only League member J'onn believes has multiple locks on his underwear drawers."

"Yeah. Why am I friends with J'onn?"

GL slapped at the back of the speedster's head. Anticipating the maneuver, Wally dodged the worst of it. He could easily have evaded the entire move, but he knew this was his friends weird way of showing they cared and it wasn't like he'd suffer a real injury.

"Hey, GL, I just thought of a magnificent question. Why can't I stay with you or Shayera?"

_He was not whining._

"Because J'onn's right about the lack of child-proof locks on our _private affairs_ and apparently my juvenile buddy thinks we're more play partners than bastions against evil."

Wally somberly nodded. "Well, that's true, but kind of moot. I already know that you like camouflage briefs and that the only thing with a strap that Shayera wears is attached to her mace."

He got another slap at his head from both of them.

* * *

**Reviewer Response: One reviewer brought up a good question so I'm answering it here as well as responding directly:**

**_(Though I'm wondering... "He used another beam to move the yellow boots back to the floor." I wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't mentioned the color, but can the ring move yellow things? I thought that was its weakness, but I'm just getting into this fandom, so I could definitely be mistaken.)_**

**Ah...and here we hit the snarl. You are correct...kind of.**  
**See, I tend to mix elements from the (about to become pretty obsolete) pre-September first 2011 DC Universe canon with the DC *Animated* Universe. The two Universes often do not jive even though both are created by DC. In the animated show the Green Lantern rings were useless against the color yellow. However, in the main books this was shown to be because of an 'impurity (the emotional entity of fear named Parallax) that was trapped within the main Lantern Battery at the planet Oa. After it escaped, the Lantern rings could work on yellow again.**

**As for my story, you can read it as either John's ring works on yellow or that it doesn't...so John grabbed him by just above the yellow boots on the -red- fabric instead.**

**In regards to DC continuity: DC is relaunching their entire teen line on 9/1/2011. Wally West will neither be the Flash nor in that book. Nor will he be Kid Flash in Teen Titans. To fan's knowledge, DC only has Wally West continuing to exist as either a regular human or a speedster in their kid book lineup: Young Justice (based on the cartoon show _not_ the original book series which featured Tim Drake, Bart Allen, and Conner Kent); also Tiny Titans (a very young 'Kid Flash' in an elementary school for sidekicks. As far as DC Editorial is concerned, every thing Wally West did as Flash will cease to exist in just a few weeks. Erased. There will only be Barry Allen and Bart Allen so that Barry can be _unique and specia_l because this is the Flash that they grew up with (never mind that the original Flash was WWII vet Jay Garrick and that Wally the third Flash was Flash only a couple of issues short of Barry's run when Barry was re-installed as THE Flash in Flash: Rebirth.)**

**Yes, this sux royal for every Flash fan who doesn't only care about Barry Allen and Bart Allen.**

**Meanwhile, the Green Lantern and Batman franchises will remain essentially untouched seeing as they are too hot a property to mess with. Also, the new lineup actually consists of books that highlight one member or another of the Batman family of characters...including a villain. Catwoman outranks giving Wally his own book or even allowing him and other speedsters to share a book alongside Barry's Flash book. This is how much they want Wally out of the picture.**


	6. Aspic Of The World

Chapter 16: Aspic of the World

The repetitious tones rebounding throughout the large rooms were getting more insistent (and frequent) with each passing moment. It was annoying to the point that he was ready to (accidentally) _rip out the door chime wiring from the main entrance by way of a bulldozer._

"Yes, yes, I am _coming_," the man muttered under his breath at the increasingly disagreeable and demanding aural bombardment whose whims must yet be catered to for all of that he was getting to loathe them.

It was, indeed, _really_ quite annoying.

Firmly resolved to disallow one whit of his agitation to appear on his face, Alfred Pennyworth straightened his uniform. He would not -under any circumstance- let his agitation at Master Bruce's lateness show. After all, it wasn't like this was an uncommon occurrence: Bruce Wayne excelled at finding ways to cast Alfred's meal schedules into the abyss even at the tender age of two days when Thomas and his wife had brought their squalling bundle of joy home. It had only gotten worse as the adventurous lad had aged into a strapping man with a brilliant yet one-tracked mind that eschewed three-square meals a day. Indeed, a manservant might as well purchase those abhorrent plastic divided-section dinnerware assortments that came with equally polyethylene lids and could be stuck in the refrigerator or directly into the infernal maw of a contraption called a microwave oven. Was there no respect anymore for the mannerly tradition of polishing and cleaning glistening china, sparkling crystal, and silverware fit for royalty?

Apparently not.

Despite all of this did one resort to such inferior methods of dining even if one's employer and his various urchin charges did not seem to care a whit?

Good heavens,_ no_.

Was he going to strangle the idiot who was pressing the door chime at what must be fractional second intervals?

Quite possibly!

He opened the door.

There stood his charge looking rather grimly at him. (Again, this was nothing new save for when the Wayne heir was in his playboy guise.) Beside him (gawking at his surroundings like a tourist) was another man, a red-haired young male wearing an over-sized crimson running suit with gold accents adorning everything including his garish track shoes. In his hand he held a scarlet duffel bag secured in what looked to be a death grip. The forced grin on his face was slightly more genuine than The Joker's.

His other hand was pressed to the entry button as if it were surgically attached.

Green eyes kept darting around like he was trying to take in everything at once...or looking for potential escape routes. Either that or he was having a mild seizure. The man, Alfred quickly decided, did not at all appear to be one of Wayne Industries business associates.

Which very likely meant that this was a colleague of Wayne's _other_ business endeavors.

Alfred Pennyworth tensed, though only minutely. The butler was by no means unaware of the more -shall we say- _unusual_ company his employer tended to keep; Pennyworth had been intimately involved in Bruce Wayne's nocturnal escapades since the boy took to dressing up in something other than tuxedos and corporate wear, but usually it was that Superman fellow in his reporter guise who came to call at the manor. This was not Mr. Clark Kent. He was _definitely_ sure it was neither the Amazon (who did on occasion visit), nor that Hawk lady or the African American Green Lantern. That still left at least two other famous personalities as well as scores of other, not so famous ones that The Batman sometimes held dealings with. Still, Alfred was fairly certain he had enough of an idea as to whom the mystery man was to bet the manor on it.

At any rate, Bruce usually had the decency to inform his manservant in advance if he was having a guest over. Obviously, something unforeseen had arisen.

"Master Bruce, sir, welcome home." He patiently waited for an introduction (though it would almost certainly be a false one if what he suspected was correct. Maintaining secrecy was of great importance for both sides. It was something The Batman quit rightly insisted upon.) Alfred would be given a false name with which to address their guest for the duration of his stay at-

"Alfred, this-"

"Wow..." the red-head interjected before Wayne could finish, "in your case a man's home really _is_ his castle."

"-is Mr. Peter Sa-"

"Wally...Wallace West, but call me Wally." The young man blurted to Alfred then stuck out a hand. "Nice to meet you." This earned Mr. West a sharp glare of recrimination from his host.

_Oh dear._ Where it was possible the man was a consummate liar, from the wave of irritation Bruce was giving off it would seem their guest did not share Master Bruce's value in maintaining a false identity for every occasion and had given his actual identification.

Bruce would, Alfred was sure, undoubtedly upbraid Mr. West in private.

Mr. West meanwhile was still holding out his hand for Alfred to take and although this was not a pleasantry a manservant regularly engaged in with visitors, Pennyworth complied by grasping the offered digits with the full intention of releasing them as quickly as possible. The butler expected the pale skin to be clammy and cool given the man's obvious state of nerves; instead it felt slightly warmer than normal though definitely shaking.

Or perhaps _vibrating_ was more descriptive and, yes, his suspicion was all but confirmed by an engraved name badge attached to a vest: Mr. West was _that_ one, the meta whose moniker Master Bruce was prone to mutter under his breath during the odd stressful moment.

_The one currently holding a makeshift ~overnight~ bag._

_Oh dear._

Alfred politely pretended to have not seen Bruce's lips thin in even greater disapproval at his companion's informality and their ongoing hand shake.

"Mr. _West_." Bruce grit out, "will be staying for_ one_ night."

"Which makes me a one night stand...but not really," the red head piped up, still vigorously shaking a rigidly-postured Alfred's hand. "Can't have people talking...that's my specialty anyway, _talking_; and, yeah, got some standards because Ba-_Bruce_ isn't exactly shaped like Wonder Woman, you know?" His grin grew wider before he let out an appreciative whistle, eyes taking in the foyer and the spaces beyond. "When Ba-_Bruce_ said he was taking me to his house I sure didn't imagine it would be an actual castle."

"Mansion." Bruce corrected.

"Castle, mansion...same difference. I guess we know who inherited the goose that laid the golden egg and where that gander landed up, huh?" Mr. West playfully elbowed Mr. Wayne in the ribs. "That's one honker whose safe from the Bat dining room dinners."

"Sir?" Alfred managed to extricate his hand from the ebullient fellow, giving his master a questioning look, "might I inquire which of the rooms you would like me to prepare for Master West's use?"

The red head lost a bit of his fake grin. "Actually, a loan for a room at the motel we passed earlier would be fine and dandy."

Eyes hard, Bruce took his guest's bag from him -with not a little bit of a struggle- and handed it to his old friend who was much more than any regular employee. "We'll be sleeping in the North 'Forest' room guest room. I'll only need a cot. Mr. West will be taking the four-poster."

"I don't want to be any trouble, Ba-Bruce. The motel-"

"Then don't be." Wayne snapped.

Alfred's eyebrows rose at least one sixteenth of a centimeter at this. "Excuse me, Master Bruce...but did you say the _same_ room?"

_This was most irregular._

"Hey, no way!" Mr. West immediately waved his hands in the negative. "I'm not taking anything other than forty winks and maybe the breakfast buffet option if I stay here. The cot will do fine for me." He winked at Alfred, "maybe a candy bar under the pillow?"

"You're still not fully better from your attack. You'll take the bed." Bruce commanded in a no-nonsense manner.

"I'm _better_ than better, Baa-_Bruce_. I'm the fastest..." he eyed Alfred askance, unsure just how much the butler knew "uh...typist alive. Secretary. Business-type person. I'm all business."

"You'll take the bed and_ like_ it."

The red head made a face at his host that a two-year old would have been proud of. "Dude, face the Flash Facts. I'm younger and more limber than you. Plus, I heal faster from stiff neck problems. You get the double, I take the fold away." He snatched back his bag from the quietly bemused Alfred.

Bruce yanked it back and scowled for good measure, both for the fact that West was arguing with him and that the man was doing rather poorly at hiding his identity...not that Bruce wasn't certain Alfred hadn't already guessed it. "Take. The. Bed." He again handed the bag to Alfred.

Naturally, that just made _The Flash_ more stubborn because this was not Bruce's day or Alfred's. Still, Alfred found himself almost smiling.

_A stubborn older buck meeting an equally stubborn younger buck. No wonder Master Bruce found Mr. West irritating._

"I'm _smaller_ than you." Mr. West argued. Hearing his own words as a belated echo, the speedster's face took on an odd expression. "Height-wise, I mean," he explained to his hosts. "Not the other way because you know...young, virile..." he glanced between the other two men and blushed, awkwardly smoothing down the front of his red sweat top.."secretary businessman?"

_Ba-Bruce_ looked murderous.

"West, relax or I will _make..._you...relax."

Alfred smirked inwardly for Master Bruce could do it too and apparently the red head knew it as well for Mr. West coughed and appeared ready to run for the hills.

"Hey, you know what? I should relax more. In fact, I think I'll take the main berth because now Jeeve's is making my bed so I gotta lie in it or sigh in it." Plucking his duffel bag back out of the butler's grip, he smiled brightly at Alfred as if what he'd just said should have made perfect sense to anyone with half a brain. "So...Jeeves, what's normally served for breakfast? Do you have any Pop Tarts? I love Pop Tarts because they're fast and easy like me." He blushed and coughed into one hand. "I meant fast and easy _going_." He smiled again, brighter and more forced than ever. "You know what I think? I think I'm overly tired and running on empty and it's making my brain misfire and all sorts of silly words just flow out of my mouth like Niagara after a typhoon because...you know...major brain fart center is open for business so don't pay attention to anything I've been blurting out especially that sounds suspiciously like..._suspicious_ stuff."

Bruce's glare deepened.

"Yeah..." Mr. West drawled out, trying and failing dismally to look confident, "relax." He scratched his head. "Where is this four poster bed of yours then, Mr. Bats Servant? Just what kind of posters does Bruce keep there anyway...ones of Superman? I bet he's got one for Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, and J'onn. Or are they of bats because" he coughed yet again "_super heroes_...heh; why would a business guy like Mr. Wayne be interested in _super heroes_? So...Dracula? Nosferatu? Those Twilight books?"

Their guest started walking towards the east wing, utterly clueless as to how huge the place was or where the 'Forest Room' lay or anything at all except that he dearly wanted to retreat from their stares and have a lie down. Or maybe just _manage to get lie_ down _pat_: Mr. West was clearly awful at the art of deceit.

"Just the one night," a world-weary Bruce assured Alfred.

"Indeed, sir." Alfred paused then whispered to his employer. "Should you inform _Master Flash_ or shall I?"

Smirking a bit, Bruce waited until Wally was several yards away. "West?" His unwanted company did a one-eighty, still with the false smile of congeniality on his face like The Joker had planted it there.

"Yeah?"

"The guest room is the _other_ way?" He pointed in the correct direction.

"Well, that's a silly place for it." Wally grumbled as he speed walked past them. "Totally anti the fangs way. Hows a guy supposed to relax?"

"Definitely one night." Wayne breathed, hurrying after him.

* * *

"Holy Super-Sized Sleep Cushion, Batman! Is that an actual bed or an emergency landing pad for the Bat Plane?"

At least that is what Bruce thought he heard the speedster exclaim as the words were a bit accelerated. He entered the guest room to see Wally gawking at the large room with it's enormous furnishings and even more massive four-poster bed. Pale fingers and green eyes inspected the smooth mahogany framework. He cheekily pointed at the large wood beams overhead.

"You know if I'm going to be sleeping on the mattress I wouldn't mind terribly if you wanted to bat nap hanging upside down from the rafters rather than the cot. Wouldn't want to disrupt any Bat sleeping habits more than need be."

"Flash..." Bruce Wayne finished stepping into the room only to find his guest looking out the window towards the neighboring forest, the last rays of daylight illuminating his form.

"Uh oh...the use of _formal_ names." Grimacing, the younger man braced himself. "Right, Wally, it's Lecture Time. I blew it big." Half jumping, half bouncing backwards, he landed on his butt in the middle of the bed with his knees tucked under his chin. It happened so fast that Bruce hadn't even seen him kick off his shoes. "Nervous, you know? Just tell me what brilliant excuse you've made up on the spot to bamboozle Jeeves into thinking I'm a regular Joe instead of another factopm of the fast lane set so I can match it...only I hope it involves secretarial work because" he sheepishly ruffled the back hairs on his head..."I kind of implied that already, didn't I? At least I can fake some speed typing."

"His name is Alfred and he is perfectly aware of my..night duties as well as your track records, Bruce informed him. "He's also very judicious and won't give away your identity. Assuming it _is_ still secret if you've shown as much lack of discretion in Central City as you've displayed in the past half hour."

"That's not a fair..." Bruce stared at him; Wally groaned.

"Okay...that _was_ fair. I'm not this bad at home, honest." Wally plopped onto his back, sighing into his hands as he lay there, admiring the absurdly high ceiling with it's lattice of wood. The room was done in neutral colors; the bedding felt cool and crisp while so soft he doubted a cloud would feel any softer if it tried. "I'm not this..._scared_ at home," he quietly admitted, running a tentative hand over the coverlet. He let his mind wander, desperately wishing Bruce would go away and let him ponder his amazing capacity to stick his foot into his mouth in peace.

Or better yet, to forget the whole day ever happened.

The week.

The month.

His _life._

_Maybe all those beams were up there because Batman liked to practice cel-lining before bed to the roof and back again? Hell, maybe he normally slept up there like his namesakes. Hanging by cords..._

_Shit...bad imagery!_

"I know messed up." Eyes pressed shut, Wally let his head loll to the side, allowing Bruce to get a good look at his profile and the way his Adam's apple bopped up and down a time or two. "I mean, I was just telling J'onn not long ago...how I know I mess up _a lot_ and when I do sometimes they tend to be real doozies, but this time...this time with that _thing_...well..." The speedster swallowed back what he hoped was the last of the bile "that was likely the second most awful time in my life."

Still as a statue, Wayne considered the speedster's words and worried over the choice of one in particular. "Second?" he inquired.

"Yeah...because, you see, the second was bad, but the first one? That will be the misstep that I won't ever have the chance to recover from."

"The one where you die?" Bruce immediately realized what West meant. It was easy...he'd entertained those same thoughts a few times himself. Life held no guarantees even for the healthy or brilliant: every moment was borrowed.

"Uh huh...yeah." Wally fell silent, twisting his fingers around each other, still refusing to look at him. The sight reminded Bruce of the Fates inspecting a section of someone's life line and considering whether to snip it off now or later...only Flash was clearly concerned about his own thread of existence...where and when the last bit of yarn would end.

As the silence deepened and neither spoke more, Wayne regarded the troubled figure ~so pale lying there nearly swallowed up by silk earthy-brown sheets~ and wondered if this had been a good idea. The manor was not exactly the most joyful spot in the world; it's opulence was shrouded in the gloom of two decades worth of somber mourning. Bruce never minded that...the darkness fit his personality; but Wally was not like him. Flash needed cheering up, not more dourness. Perhaps he should call Superman over? Kent would undoubtedly come ringing the doorbell to collect the kid within minutes if he summoned the Kryptonian...haul him off to some candy store and ply him with sweets and rainbow-tummy embued teddy bears. He snorted at the fantastical image, knowing it was false (Clark wouldn't really do something that silly...Bruce was just...)

_Out of his depth and wanting this over with._

Not an avenue open to him: J'onn had requested that _Bruce_ was to take in Wally for tonight. He wasn't about to admit defeat and call one of the others for help.

"Talk to me, West." He steeled himself for another argument; but his reluctant guest apparently was no longer inclined to fight the situation.

"Everyone dies," the speedster began in a voice so low it forced Bruce to move closer in order to hear it, "I know I'm going to die one day. So are you. Even Supes and Diana. We're none of us truly immortal no matter how much we'd like to think at least some of us would always be around. Each of us have suffered at least one _'it's over'_ moment; the kind right when the shit is about to hit the fan and hope is half exited out the door on it's way to oblivion and you're left thinking... _This is it_. _This is where the road ends and I ceased to exist on Earth._ You're as good as dead and your life starts to pass before your eyes because...I think it was on the Science Channel...the brain cells are blipping out and as they go you start to remember the stuff they held...like where you really left the keys or how to program the coffee maker."

_Yes. I know about mortality._

_Intimately._

It was why Bruce kept people at a distance: people _died_...their existence snuffed out one way or another because they were unlucky to have met him. The further away he kept others the safer they would be because Death was like Batman's second cloak...it surrounded him everywhere he went.

"You saw your life pass before your eyes?" Wayne asked without actually needing to hear the answer. It was a common enough expression with ~as Wally had stated~ some validity to it. Bruce knew that as well because Death often glanced his way with an air of anticipation.

His guest let out a choked sob, fingers gripping the fabric of the coverlet. "No. No...I didn't. Crap." Wally hunched further into himself leaving Bruce feeling suddenly confused.

"I don't understand then," he confessed. "What is the significance of telling me about seeing your life passing by if it didn't actually happen?"

"Because I never _got that far!"_ Wally shouted before rolling completely over, face hidden. He shuddered, gulped, and keened into the mass of linen under him, "I never, fucking _got_ that far."

Further unsettled by this show of intensified distress, Bruce placed a hand on Wally's head. He absently noted the heat radiating off the young man...the heavy sweat that was undoubtedly ruining the costly bedding...and the next second ignored these facts as unimportant because they were; Flash was always warmer than normal and bedding was easy to replace, so he kept the weight of his hand where it was ~nothing more~ to let Flash know Bruce was still there, still listening. "Explain."

Wally tilted his head upward enough to look at the other with glistening green eyes. "There wasn't enough_ time_," he bitterly spat the last word out like it was the most vile word in existence.

Bruce opened his mouth to say that there had been plenty of time, but shut it before he could let any words out. He'd been about to say that West was only twenty-two. Not exactly a lot of memories to go through in comparison to say...someone in their seventies. How long could it take to remember his whole life? It would have been a rather callous statement in itself. Fortunately, Bruce had held his tongue just in time because now he realized that... it would not only have been a tactless thing to say, he'd have been wrong.

"Your speed..." Bruce felt his mouth go dry.

_Dear God. His speed.  
_

The red head shuddered under his palm. "I was fighting for my life and losing. Adrenaline had kicked in. Panic as well and that made it worse. I couldn't slow down my enhanced perspective for love or money let alone for sanity's sake."

Now it was Bruce's turn to swallow down bile. "How long?" No need to clarify the question as they both knew what he meant: time moved differently for Wally.

Time moved _slower_.

"Minutes...hours...I don't know. Wasn't exactly keeping track. All I recall is that it began and then it went on, and on, and on...and...on: a minute, an hour, forever...what's the difference to someone like me? I was trapped in a moment of hell and it felt like Eternity and...will that always happen when I'm close to death...a nightmare that lasts forever?" Wally sighed...a long and wet sound, spittle dripping unchecked from lips. He absently wiped at the flow.

"You got a shower I can use? Or a bath? Wanna nice long soak if that's okay? I like water lately," he explained with a tired chuckle. "Probably would get mistaken for Aquaman these days rather than as Flash. Water's just...calming. Soft green lights...candles maybe? You got a bath?" he repeated, dully, like an automaton.

"Door on your right...next to the armoire."

"Thanks." Wally slid off the bed in slow motion, walking zombie-like towards the antique wooden cabinet where the bathroom lay.

There was a slight cough from behind him. Bruce turned his head; spied Alfred in the doorway looking stone faced.

"Alfred."

"I'll set the candles, sir."

Bruce nodded in assent and gratitude. "Green ones...and some soft chime music."

"Of course, sir. I know just the shade to procure. Shall I also be taking the liberty of ensuring that this side of the universe remains undisturbed by...outside matters?"

Ah, the proficiency that was Alfred. What would he do without him?

"Thank you, Alfred, yes."

Dick and Barbara could take care of Gotham for tonight.

Sighing, Bruce laid back on the bed and pondered what to do.

* * *

*Aspic is a jelly. "Aspic of the world" is a line from The Ballad Of Barry Allen by Jim's Big Ego. It denotes how the rest of the world moves slowly to a speedster.

A/N: So am I. Think I know where this is going to end up now.

Btw, Flash 1 (volume 4? DCnU) is now out. It looks excellent and reviews have been this side of good. Still, I read the reviews and watch the scans with Barry while part of me is figuratively glancing around waiting for Wally to appear. Barry is like the surviving widower of your favorite in-law...you like the guy well enough, but you keep looking for the other. (No, I'm not buying it and won't until they return Wally as a superhero in his own right. Not necessarily in the Flash book...but somewhere. Until then, I'm only a looky-lu Flash fan.)

Also, Justice League: Doom (Tower of Babel) DCAU DVD movie is due out in either 2012 or 2013. The same actor who voiced Wally in Justice League DCAU is doing Flash...but instead of Kyle as GL they are using Hal and instead of Aquaman it's Cyborg (who they are trying to hype up by putting him in the DCnU Justice League book after his Flashpoint appearances.) This being the case...there is a possibility that the Flash that looks and sounds like Wally will actually be Barry. If this happens it will totally blow out of the water those who say that DC Editorial actually do like Wally. We'll see. Something else I'm not buying right away until I learn who is under that scarlet mask.


	7. Utterly done

Mind drifting towards sleep, eyes closed, Wally lazed in the large bath, finding an inordinate amount of comfort in being surrounded by water even if it wasn't hot like a usual bath. In fact, he rather preferred it like this.

It was cool and almost dark in the bathroom now that all of the smaller candles that Alfred had so thoughtfully provided were burned down. Just the taller ones still retained their flickering lights. If he opened his eyes he'd be able to watch the orange specks dot the placid water.

He didn't open his eyes.

It was late which meant he really should consider getting out of the pool..._bathtub_... before he drowned himself in it. Problem was he frankly didn't feel like it.

_If I drowned in my sleep would my speed not realize I'm dying and fail to react?_ _If I let myself slide down could I slip away like a normal person?_

The water suddenly changed from still to a soft lapping as it was disturbed by an outside force. Wally breathed deeply through his nose, but didn't otherwise bother to see who had joined him. Soft skin against his...sliding under then settling down around his buttocks and upper back, lifting upwards into a new position where he was in no danger of submerging even if he tried. Wally still didn't open his eyes, but he did give the ghost of a smile.

"You planning something naughty or just attempting some kind of Jujitsu Water Lap Dance hold?"

"Neither."

"Pity. I'd have liked to see any Rogue's face if you tried this on them. Repeat offenders would either cease or triple."

"It's not safe to fall asleep in a bathtub," Batman's voice chided attempting to sound terse. Wally wasn't fooled.

"I'm not asleep." He yawned, slowly, drowsily. His body always was rather contrary. It didn't help that Bruce's frame made a remarkably comfy lounge despite the bulging muscles. "So there."

"No," the voice teasingly agreed. "Your brain is obviously unhindered by the designs of Somnus and functioning. Do you mind if I make sure it stays that way by keeping you company until you're ready to get out?" the voice asked.

"That depends on how you plan to thwart Somnus, whoever that is," he smirked and finally opened his eyes...if only half way.

"J'onn."

The body supporting his shifted.

"Perhaps you actually are already asleep and dreaming?"

"If only." Wally captured the others mouth in his, kissing it hard. "Still think I'm asleep, Mr. J'onzz?"

'Bruce' let out a low groan. "How can you know I'm not Batman?"

"Just because you _look_ like Bruce?" an amused Wally snorted while tracing a wet palm over scarred flesh. "Lavish as Bruce's place is this tub isn't as nice as your mental pool. Plus, since it isn't your mind I'm in my other senses aren't being filtered and I've kind of been acquainting myself lately with the unique aroma that is Martian. Speaking of which...I wasn't kidding when I said I like your natural form best. It's like your smell...unique and enticing." The rough human skin under his hands obligingly changed into smooth green. Wally's grin widened. "Alien _is_ the new sexy."

"Curious...I was thinking the same thing." This time it was J'onn who initiated the kiss. Tentative, unsure. "Is this truly what you want, Wallace, or are you wishing comfort from me as Bruce?"

"I'm the Flash. I've already thought it through like a gazillion times?" The speedster grumbled, intentionally changing the subject. "Bats know you're in his house seducing his guest in his very own bedroom?"

"_Guest bedroom_ and I trust that was a rhetorical question."

"Yeah...he probably has surveillance cameras even in here."

"Yes...but he has turned them off at my request." J'onn lifted Wally from the tub. Water cascaded down as he ascended, burden firmly in hand. Wally was disappointed that it didn't sound like music. "Still, I think you have been in here long enough."

"Cause my skin has more water wrinkles than a prune? Guess I'm not terribly sexy to look at in real life."

"No, because you _are_ falling asleep in my embrace...which admittedly looks quite sexy."

Gingerly, Wally was laid onto the bed.

"I totally would, you know."

"What?" J'onn asked, tucking him in.

"Let you fuck me as J'onn Martian and not J'onn Bats."

J'onn froze. "Wallace..." he shook his head.

"Or I could top. Or do my Flashdance reenactment in your meditation pool. Just saying."

"You're overly tired. Go to sleep before you embarrass yourself."

"S'true."

* * *

"He does love you."

J'onn sighed, eyes never straying from the fast asleep human as he answered, "He's worn out. Doesn't know what he's saying. We are two different species."

"You are two lonely individuals unfit for living a solitary life." Bruce went on, keeping his own watch on J'onn. "He doesn't care what you look like. It may have been my image that initially gave him security when he was lost, but it was you he yearned for after that...your mind, your heart, your soul. Wally fell in love with you, J'onn."

"I know."

* * *

A/N screw this! (Kyer has had enough.)

With apologies to those who had been polite.

I wrote 6 a couple of days ago and despite 70 visitors to it received 0 comments. (Usual is around 40 I get a comment...used to be under 25 a year ago.) So I pulled the chapter and looked at it...didn't seem bad. Put it back up without realizing this would bump it up the list (sorry about that, really didn't think) then waited while starting 7. Another 45 hits...still 0 comments on 6.

Right...math doesn't lie.

Awful life right now is undoubtedly coloring my feelings but...100 hits and not one person could bother? I got used to the fact that global readers were silent..maybe one or two British Commonwealth people would speak up, but the US usually pulls through. I can only assume that either the chapter really did stink so bad that nobody dared comment or that it was fine but nobody could haul arse enough to click the review button and type a : and a ) together or even a : and a ( so...

I can't be bothered either. I have family crises that I've been ignoring far too much...important life decisions I've been putting off in favor of writing for increasingly apathetic takers.

Find Wally at DC.

Oh wait...you can't because DC stopped writing Wally so the only place to find him is in fanfic or old books.

This story is now marked _Complete as is._

_Edit: 10/2: I'm not going to apologize for my snit because that would be disingenuous. I meant what I said about how frustrating it is to be ignored._

_1. Alerts are meant for the benefit of the reader. For the writer they simply meant that at least one particular chapter was liked...they give no clue to whether any further chapters were liked or disliked. The fact that the Alert has not been removed often simply means the reader has not bothered or figured out how to remove it yet. It was never created by FFN to act as a 'kudos' to the writer._

_2. Afraid of offense: What is more offensive: the possibility of giving unwanted praise or critique...or total silence? If someone doesn't want reviews they would say so or at least turn off the Anonymous Review function so as to radically cut down on comments. You are far more likely to be correct in assuming a writer wants to know that their chapters are wanted rather than assuming they don't want to hear from you. In fact, I can barely remember ever reading a work where the author stated they didn't want reviews._

_3. Okay, anyone who says they don't wince a bit at a negative or constructive review is lying to someone. They do hurt a bit, but sometimes that hurt is like iodine. I will never forget my first negative review where it was politely pointed out that I over used exclamation points. I took another look at my chapter and realized they were right...and have made an effort on clamping down on excessive punctuation. The world is not a rubber-matted place of safety nor should it be. A writer who is not willing to concede that they aren't godlike should put down that they don't want reviews.  
_


	8. It's Official

There was nothing more mind-numbly boring than a Justice League Monthly Recap Meeting. Not even Monitor Duty could instigate as many tediously consecutive picoseconds as listening to Superman -anyone!- drone on about pie chart after brain-numbing pie chart.

It was totally unfair, really, that statisticians would malign a perfectly good word like _pie_ in such a way was simply wrong. Pies were meant to be sugary mother lodes of baked goodness, not used as 2-dimensional conveyors of mandatory ennui.

It wasn't like Flash blamed Clark for being stuck with the most thankless task of of sharing statistics with all of them. It had to be done by someone, he supposed, and it wasn't like Batman -their technical whiz- was making any attempts to relieve The Hero of Metropolis of this monthly burden. (Maybe the two had gotten together and figured out that Superman's primary colors were more likely to keep people from a state of going totalyl comatose because bright colors were more stimulating to the brain then black and grey?)

Yeah, he could just see Batman using that theory to foist the job on Clark knowing that the patient Kent would rather just go along with it than argue over it every 30 days or so because, yes, Bruce Wayne could be a persistent pest when he wanted something. Or to get _out_ of something.

_Manipulating, Kevlar-plastered, unfairly sexy, bastard._

Wally noticed J'onn glance in his direction. Well, he surmised the Martian had done so...kind of hard to tell what with those monochrome eyes.

* * *

Martian eyes were...cool.

Scratch that, they were_ hot_. Like twin orange suns. Wally was almost always left wondering just where J'onn was looking because there were no pupils to swerve about.

Added an air of mystery to it all.

Damned sexy.

Also, when he was in J'onn's mind they moved at the same speed: J'onn's. He wasn't forced to wait for J'onn to catch up because they were already in sync when in J'onn's mindscapes. He liked to think that it was J'onn speeding up, but more than likely it was him slowing down.

No biggie. Not exactly the only thing in his life or body that he couldn't speed up such as certain necessary laws of gravity.

J'onn had made love to him in Wayne's bathroom.

Just the thought of it made Wally want to giggle.

_Buggered in a Bat's Bathtub._

God, that sounded hilarious.

Albeit a tad vulgar and there was nothing crude about J'onn. J'onn was culture personified. In fact, J'onn was so much more cultured than, say, yogurt.

Plain yogurt was a bit bland though. It needed something to spice it up. That's where Wally knew that he fit in so well. He was like a fruit syrup additive to J'onn's spiritual yogurt. Or maybe chocolate because chocolate gave lots of energy. On the other hand, fruit _was_ sweet and refreshing and wasn't that how most people perceived him to be?

That is when he wasn't going nuts and having a snarky episode because of the unfairness of his team mates and life in general.

Maybe today, the speedster mused, he was bitter almond?

Well, Wally wasn't quite sure what flavor he was especially to J'onn because J'onn had the condiment references of two planets to draw upon, but Wally was pretty positive he went well with plain yogurt.

Did Mars once have frozen yogurt bars?

He could really go for some frozen yogurt right now.

With a Mars bar.

Adding a tub of yogurt and candy bars on the side.

J'onn had made love to him in Batman's bathtub to the accompaniment of euphonious melody because each time he'd moved the water had responded with the sound of chimes. Every touch caused vibrations and every vibration echoed with music like Wally was just one large percussion instrument and J'onn was the musician versed in...

* * *

_-Wallace?-_

Uh oh. It would seem that the Martian's Flash Alert Recalcitrance Taximeter was in full working order. J'onn was getting antsy that Wally was on the way to planning a no-no in public.

(Wally had come up with the acronym F.A.R.T. which was part of why J'onn felt compelled to keep an eye on him._)  
_

_-I'm good.-_

Bored, but behaving himself.

For the moment.

He'd promised J'onn as much.

_Id est that there would be no paper airplane dogfights with GL or attempting to instigate brawls with liberally-minded, super-powered females._

Wally's green eyes steered towards safer ports. It wouldn't help, really, because J'onn was probably feeling his agitation no matter what Wally looked at. It was the downside of being friends with a telepath. Not that he minded much other than he hated to unintentionally upset J'onn with his patented speedster quirks.

Anyway, J'onn had returned his attention to Superman so Wally endeavored to do the same. Or hopefully at least managed to look like he was interested: a feat that the speedster was finding harder and harder to accomplish despite the supposed attention-grabbing clashing azure and crimson of the Man of Steel.

Flash's mind drifted to imaginary webpage images heralding a brightly dressed Superman being pulled in to anchor the nightly news on slow days so that the media wouldn't go bankrupt for lack of viewership; you know, due to The Public's shortened attention spans causing an economic tailspin?

_Superman Saves The Daily Planet!_

_Network news scores soared higher than a bird or a plane as The Man of Steel took over the news today, sitting on his butt while pontificating over the day's highlights, occasionally getting a bit heated over the sound bites of billionaire Lex Luthor. Viewers agreed that the red and blue came off very well in Hi-Def: matched his eyes.  
_

Or worse, what if the President requested him for late night As Seen On TV shopping in order to stimulate the economy?

_Superman Sends The Home Shopping Network Scores Up, Up & Away!_

_But wait, there's more! If your entranced by Superman trying to sell you The Easy-0ff Jar Opener and purchase two** within the next five minutes**, we'll throw in The Green Arrow Combo Beard Trimmer & Nose Hair Clipper for absolutely free! (Offer excludes Shipping & Handling.)_

* * *

Well, that had gotten him through a whole ten seconds.

Woo.

Man, he was bored. Five red-clad fingers drummed a theme song by Queen on the table top.

That was the trouble with having speed enhanced vision...color meant little even when it was being nicely filled by a Kryptonian in good health.

Fortunately, a certain speedster had just the news to liven things up. (Or at least guaranteed to shut Superman up long enough for Wally's brain cells to stop yawning.)

"We're getting married." Flash cheerfully announced. (Politely timing his bombshell while The Kryptonian was pausing between the onslaughts of quantitative data in memory of Aunt Iris whom had been big on manners.) He laid his gloved hand over The Martian Manhunter's bared one and expectantly waited at Ground Zero for the meaning of his words to reach past his teammate's eardrums and awaken cognitive centers from their slumber much in the way the act of igniting dynamite would have a similar effect; factoring in that they'd been lulled into the depths of aural sensory fatigue for the past 23 minutes, Wally counted back the second fractions that he figured it would take the others to react.

Three/one-hundredth of a second, two/one-hundredth, one...

...and ka-_boom_!

Stewart was hit first; darn near bit in two the stylus he had been gnawing on.

Diana froze like only a person who'd once been comprised of clay could manage.

Batman would have been a copy cat of Wonder Woman's statue imitation if it were not for that nervous tic forming under his right eye. (Wally mentally pumped a fist into the air even if the tic was purely hypothetical on his part what with Batman's concealing cowl.._.but he knew it just had to be there!_)

Superman...

Big Blue had inhaled so sharply that everyone had to grip the table in order to counter the artificial gale created by his lungs and...well, there went GL's stylus to a destination point best not dwelt upon. Good thing Supes had an axillary bypass respiratory system.

Or was that medical reference solely pertaining to a Doctor Who character?

He got up and gave Clark a hearty slap on the back just in case a stylus was enough to end the existence of Earth's greatest champion due to asphyxiation.

As for Shayera, she looked more like an owl than a hawk, her eyes rounder than Flash had ever seen them. It was, Wally decided, kind of a cute look on her. Honestly, he really should have brought his camera.

Easy fix because after all he was the...

_Flash! Flash! Flash! Flash! Flash!  
_

Oh yeah.._._score another one for the Justice League Candid Camera New Year's album!

It was a pity that J'onn had remained serene at his little statement and thus spoiled an otherwise priceless group picture, but that was because The Martian had vital foreknowledge regarding West's abrupt declaration...what with being the co-conspirator.

(Those last few hours as the guests of Bruce Wayne had been highly productive in regards to planning out his future life's goals. Wally grinned in the direction of his betrothed.)

_-Go ahead, tell them it's true. Knock their socks off.-_

"We are not getting married." J'onzz clarified for them. Around the table, hearts started approaching a reasonably normal rhythm. J'onn ignored Flash's overly dramatic scowl and eye roll.

_-Spoil sport!-_

_-If they all suffered heart attacks, whom do you envision would be stuck performing all monitor duties until they recovered?-_

Flash paled and waved him to go ahead with his explanation. _-Point taken.-_

_ Like one of Green Arrows personalized missiles to the hindquarters.  
_

"Then this is just another of Flash's attempts to sabotage our meeting?" Superman sighed with relief. Not that he was against marriage. It was just... Wally and J'onn? Had pigs started flying?

"Partially. The relationship is different than that particular ceremonial bonding in which, as you humans say, 'copulation takes place in order to perpetuate the species...seeing as we are neither of us compatible for such an ideal either by sex or DNA. We will, however, be joined in the cerebral sense..our souls in constant communion. With our mental essences in a state of continuous empathy we shall remain bonded without the need for physical touch."

Wally rolled his eyes at his friend's clinical speech. "Yeah, right. Maybe not for you, J'onn Juan, but I'm the human of this interracial relationship and have all sorts of touchy/feely, wild hormonal_ needs_ that range far beyond the virtual reality ones. In other words, I'm looking forward to indulging in some Pon Farr-style extracurricular activities that would make Mr. Spock keel over from fatigue." He grinned not-so-innocently at them all before laying a lip smack on J'onn's cheek. "Comprende mi amigo?"

"Completely." The Martian agreed, smiling back.

The watching Founders blinked.

"Great!" Flash turned to face the silent Dark Knight. "Bats, I want an advance on my Founder debit card. Me and The Big Green Love Machine are going to need the extra moolah in order to go out and get a promise ring."

Batman grunted. Whether he agreed, disagreed, was amused, or was contemplating a vacation in a speedster-less dimension, nobody could tell nor dared they ask. Possibly because they were too busy scraping together their thought processes.

"Promise ring?" A nonplussed J'onn was bemused at the strange phrase. (This part of their agreement he hadn't heard mention of. Of course, Wallace did have a tendency to talk a mile-a-minute about a variety of subjects linked to bonding and how best to fill his empty stomach...it was possible he'd missed it within yesterday's verbal barrage when it had been mutually decided that it was beneficial to both that they hang together like Didelphis marsupialis in love. Or was it _muskrats_ in love rather than opossum? Wallace had been humming some tune while they'd kissed in J'onn's meditation pool, but J'onn admitted to himself that he'd been somewhat distracted by West's enthusiastic rendition of_ Good Vibrations _in every variation imaginable to faithfully recall what the red-haired human had started singing after that.)

"A simple one will do...preferably gold, so it doesn't clash with my dress-uniform Flash duds," his significant other went on. "Oh, and featuring a lightning design. It's got to have a lightning design." (Now he was flipping through a current catalog from the Official Flash Museum in Central City he'd obtained from somewhere...probably just now from that very museum.) "If we pick it out on Monday they'll be holding the special Flash Birthday Sale Event. Plus, I get an honorary 10% discount on anything not clearance on account that I sort of founded the place, so don't be afraid to splurge."

"On Mars, we did not..." J'onn stopped at the puppy dog look on Wally's face. Bruce Wayne might have perfected The Death Scowl, but Wallace was an _expert_ at employing 'Don't-Kick-The-Puppy faces.

J'onn (as Wallace knew full well) was not in the habit of kicking puppies. "White or yellow gold?" he asked in resignation.

"Duh.._yellow_, naturally. Don't want to take the chance of GL envying it's coolness over his and trying to lift it." The sapient light bulb grinned at a muttering John Stewart before returning his happy gaze to the Martian. "And I got you the perfect ring already so we can save some time for, you know, other things." He waggled his eyebrows.

With nigh infinite patience, J'onn forbore reminding Wallace that his chosen decor -indeed, everything he wore- was a part of his own body. Putting on a piece of inorganic material would only be a hindrance to his shape shifting ability. "And what is that?"

"Ta-daa!" A small, shiny object was shoved under J'onn's nose. Fortunately, it didn't appear to be enhanced by sound effects or obscene. "It's an official Choco promotional ring!" the excited speedster exclaimed. He was fair bouncing in place. "Isn't it _cool?"_

J'onn smiled. The proffered ornament was made of cheap plastic which sported a painted mold of an Oreo cookie on top. _Made in Taiwan_ was stamped on the inside. That West had probably found it in a yard sale for pennies was besides the point. The real meaning was that he'd thought of what J'onn liked and went searching for something for him despite his limited finances. "It is very lovely, Wally; thank you."

Snickering, Wally juggled the trinket a few times before laying it on the table. "Kidding! I was just joshing, you know? We don't have to get rings. I already got _you_ and plan to show that to anyone around a lot clearer than any ring could do anyway." He lifted the closest of J'onzz's arms in order to snuggle in closer, winking at the flabbergasted League as if daring them to say anything. Unperturbed, J'onn wrapped both arms protectively around the speedster, silently affirming that he also had the other and what more was needed?

(But he palmed the ring anyway; it _was_ a gift.)

_-Are you trying to be antagonistic to our friends, Wallace?-_

_-Maybe a little. They weren't very nice before when they were trying to figure out...you know?-_

"Do you think that's wise?" Shayera piped up as they continued to cuddle each other "Not that I have a problem with this 'Martian/Human marriage', but some humans still hold a lot of prejudices against... interracial... coupling." She and John got that a lot, though she was never really sure whether it was John's race or her own that garnered the most 'looks' from people.

"What do you think we are...stupid?" Wally snorted. "It's going to be like a secret identity...only in tandem. Show her J'onn." J'onn obliged by changing his shape while Wally smugly watched their expressions from the safe vantage point of his guardian's arms.

"Oh my god...you are not?" Superman gasped. He wasn't the only one looking scandalized. Even Bats looked a bit paler than usual.

Visibly confused by their friends reaction, Wally turned his head...and gaped when his eyes fell on some rather prominent and highly recognizable cleavage.

Not that he'd ever been allowed to see it from quite this angle or proximity...without risking permanent dismemberment.

"J'onn?" he squeaked, hurriedly squirming out from the (leaner) arms in order to put some distance between himself andJ'onn; not to mention another particular party who shared his initials.

"Too much?" his intended asked with a charming smile.

"Yeah...no..." Wally breathed out in confusion. (One moment he was reveling in fun and maybe just a pinch of revenge and the next he was feeling like he was drowning. Not everything that happened_ fast_ was a good thing.) "Um, I think you look fabulous any which way_ (and he did, but...gawd there was a time and a place!)_; still, it's kind of possible that Diana there might take exception to my going out on the town with her image at my side let alone my face planted in..." he blushed redder than his hair, pointedly not looking at the Amazon.

The_ real_ Amazon.

Diana in point of fact looked more like she was going to break out with giggles more than start brandishing her sword, but best not to trust his discernment regarding women and their thought processes...or potentially hidden murder-the-males-or-at-least-separate-them-from-vital-equipment tendencies.

"Really? I thought she would be flattered." J'onn morphed back into his Martian Manhunter guise then smiled knowingly at his human. "Kidding," he added with a smirk.

The League (not exactly talkative before this) went deathly quiet.

Wally spluttered for a second, then, surprisingly, looked close to tears. "J'onn, you shape-shifting scalawag. Your first non-League-mission-related con job! I'm so proud I could cry." Reversing his earlier 'distancing' he hugged the Martian close. They could just make out a muffled "Iloveyou."

Patting the happy man on the back, J'onn regretfully felt compelled to inform him: "Wallace, you do realize that there are limits to how much of this pranking activity I am willing to engage in."

"Yeah, but I was thinking our first victim could be Booster Gold or maybe, you know, Guy Gardner."

The Martian didn't have a eyelids to blink, but he certainly gave the impression that he did. Booster and Guy were considered fair game by many since those two were the most irritating pair out of the entire League and it's part timers.

"Acceptable."

From across the table, John let out a dramatic groan. "God, their minds are already synchronizing...and with Flash's id vying for control. We're all doomed."


End file.
